


Halcyon

by merulanoir



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Reluctant Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 49,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir
Summary: Corvo hears the true voice of his soulmate inside his head, but instead of promises it spells sadness; his soulmate, his thoughtbound, lost in the world because he wants to choose something else. He doesn't expect anything to hurt worse than that but oh, how wrong he is.A story of choices and why they matter.Or, a story of two stubborn individuals and how they love, if you prefer.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud
Comments: 67
Kudos: 256





	1. So it runs in my blood to choose

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by the most lovely nasty person [Kiko](https://twitter.com/ConAffettoKiko), who also loves Daud on main. This pairing has way too few soulmate au fics, so I set out to fix this. It got out of hand.
> 
> The chapter title is from the poem _The Kingfisher_ by William Henry Davies.

The day Corvo’s father died was an overcast Thursday. Corvo remembered the light, how muted and dull it was. Somehow it was connected to the wordless shout of sheer grief that tore free from his mother; Paloma Attano knew instantly her husband had just died. The voice she knew as well as her own, the voice of her thoughtbound, went silent. 

The rest of the day was a haze, Beatrici and Corvo huddling in the bedroom they shared as their mother tried to find out what had happened. In the evening they finally brought in the corpse, and Paloma Attano collapsed on top of it. Her shoulders heaved with silent sobs, and Corvo knew the world had just become much more lonely for her. His parents had been bound for close to thirty years, and the silence inside his mother’s head must have been deafening.

After the funeral, Corvo’s mother pulled him aside. Beatrici had disappeared immediately after the ceremony, and Corvo knew she wanted to be left alone. His mother looked so tired. Her eyes were still overflowing with tears as she hugged Corvo close.

“Do you know why I am so sad, Corvo?” she asked.

Corvo nodded. His own eyes were red-rimmed and sore. “Dad was yours. You were his.”

His mother closed her eyes and swallowed. Then she managed a smile. “Yes. You know every member of our family has had a thoughtbound for generations. I want you to be ready for it.”

“I will.” Corvo sniffed. He knew how the story went. Right now it was hard to be excited, but he knew that time would come.

“You must keep them safe,” his mother said quietly. “You will be their home.”

“And they will be mine,” Corvo murmured, the words of the—it wasn’t a prayer, more like a rhyme they sometimes said—coming easily.

*

Beatrici never said goodbye. Corvo woke up one morning, and suddenly he knew his sister was gone. There was a silence inside the house he wasn’t used to. His eyes landed on a folded piece of paper on his nightstand, and then he was out of the door. His bare feet pounded the cobblestones as he ran as fast as he could towards the docks.

Beatrici had found her thoughtbound two years ago. Corvo had noticed before their mother, because she was working a lot more to keep them fed. His sister had become quiet, often withdrawing inside her head, and somehow Corvo had known.

Her thoughtbound lived in Morley. 

Corvo found a map after Beatrici had confessed this to him. Morley was half a world away, and his heart hurt for his sister. After that he had started to prepare for the day she would leave, but now that it had come Corvo wasn’t ready. His lungs felt like they would burst as he ran and then he was at the docks, and there was only a tiny speck of a silhouette on the horizon. The ship had left.

His knees buckled, hitting the filthy street hard. For a second everything stood very still, and then Corvo’s chest started to heave. The tears came hot and choking, and he wanted to curl up and scream.

_ She promised! She promised she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye! _

People were starting to stare, someone whispering something about the Attano boy, but Corvo didn’t pay them any mind. He choked and sobbed, knees bloody and heart feeling like it would shatter.

_ She promised!  _ Corvo shouted, but his voice was gone, his throat constricted so painfully he was certain he would suffocate.

**_People rarely keep their promises._ **

Corvo’s eyes flew open, and he looked around. A fisherman and a few vendors were looking at him with worried frowns, but no one was so close they could have whispered those words to him.

“What?” he croaked. He staggered to his feet.

**_You’re inside my head._ **

Corvo whirled around, eyes wide and heart hammering, but still there was no one standing right at his back.

_ What? _

There was a feeling, inside his head, like someone smoothing over the worst of the panic.

**_You’re here. Inside my head._ **

The world tilted as Corvo understood. That spark burned away everything else. Even Beatrici was momentarily as far from his mind as she was his body.

_ You— You’re my—  _

**_Thoughtbound. Yes._ **

There were still tears trickling down his cheeks, but now they were of shock.

_ I didn’t expect—  _

A ripple of amusement.  **_Who does?_ **

Corvo remembered people were staring at him and quickly walked to an alleyway. He sank to the ground behind a stinking dumpster and furiously rubbed at his eyes.

_ I thought it would be… Well, different.  _ Corvo felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. He had no idea what he meant.

**_I never expected to have a thoughtbound. I thought it was just a story._ **

It should have felt weird, to have another voice inside his head. Instead it felt like coming home, like Corvo had finally discovered where a cold wind was whistling through and managed to stuff the crack full of wool. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time.

_ It’s not,  _ Corvo thought, almost giddy. He had finally managed to stop crying.  _ Everyone in my family has a thoughtbound.  _

At that, he remembered why he was currently hiding in an alley, knees bloody and face streaked with dust and tears. The twinge of pain that went through him must have registered through the bond.

**_You lost someone._ **

Corvo couldn’t tell if the voice inside his head was male or female. All he knew it was familiar and safe like nothing else had ever been.

_ My sister.  _ Corvo swallowed as he felt more tears starting to fall.  _ Her thoughtbound lives in Morley and… She left us. _

There was a silence, but something was trickling through. It felt like curiosity.

**_Where are you then?_ **

Corvo blinked.  _ Serkonos. Karnaca. _

It came and went so fast that Corvo almost missed it; a jolt of longing and anger, intertwined so thoroughly that they were inseparable.

_ Where are you?  _ He barely dared to ask. What if his thoughtbound would live half a world away, too? How could Corvo leave his mother?

There was no answer, just a long silence. The presence never waned, but it felt almost as if the person on the other end was holding their breath.

And then—

**_Nowhere._ **

_ What?  _ Corvo’s stomach dropped.  _ What do you mean nowhere? _

Another silence. 

**_I can’t come and find you._ **

Corvo’s heart was beating entirely too fast.  _ I’ll come to you! I can’t do it right away, but— _

**_No._ ** The single word fell like a rock.  **_I can’t be your thoughtbound._ **

Corvo didn’t remember standing up, but he was pacing back and forth, eyes stinging with salt and a crawling trepidation taking over him.

_ That’s not how this works! It’s not a choice! _

**_I can’t be. I can’t— Listen. I’m far away, and there’s nothing in my life that you could want._ **

Corvo didn’t know whether he wanted to scream or laugh.  _ Being thoughtbound doesn’t mean we have to love each other,  _ he pleaded.  _ It just means you’re my home— _

Just like that, a ripple of something dark and hurting tore through him, and the connection broke. Corvo’s legs gave out again, and when he finally blinked himself back to reality he knew it right away; his thoughtbound had withdrawn.

He’d only known the connection for a short moment, and already the silence was starting to chafe. Very slowly Corvo forced his legs to start working. He returned to the house, not looking forward to explaining to his mother that Beatrici was gone. He didn’t even entertain the thought of trying to tell about his own experience to her.

*

The link stayed silent and frozen for almost a year. The days and weeks passed and the link never once opened again. It was like a bad dream that never ended; Corvo had only shared some minutes with his soulmate, yet now he was lost without them. He had never been one to talk much, but what little words Corvo had used dried up on his tongue until people around him thought he’d gone mute.

He didn’t know how to wrench himself free from it. Whenever Corvo tried to imagine a life without his thoughtbound, it was like forcing himself to drink brackish water. He knew he was wallowing in his misfortune, but everything in his family was about this connection; Corvo had even been named after a bird that mated for life. He’d loved his given name, the hard click and rumble of it, but now he wanted to wipe it off.

It was difficult to keep in touch with his friends. He all but gave up on attending the school sessions of the teacher who toured Karnaca and taught poor kids. Time was moving on without Corvo as he struggled to secure a grip around his life, and as busy as his mother was, even she noticed.

Corvo heard her talking to a family friend, once. He had spent the day lying in bed and staring at the slip of the sky visible between the buildings of the Batista District, when soft voices caught his attention.

His mother was standing right under the window. Corvo strained his hearing and recognized the voice of Renata Pastor. She and Corvo’s mother had known each other since they were just girls.

“—taking it badly.”

“I thought he looked tired when you visited us.”

“He is...not healing. Beatrici leaving us hit him worse than me, if you can imagine.” His mother’s voice was worried.

“Corvo adored her.”

“But he knows about thoughtbounds. He knows Beatrici had no choice.”

Renata Pastor made a thoughtful noise. “Lucia got hers a month ago. She lives in Cullero. We’re taking a trip there later this year.”

Corvo’s mother said something very quietly, but Renata Pastor just snorted. 

“I know it’s not usual for them to be both girls, but Lucia is so happy. She talks about little else but this Alex nowadays. I’m sure they will be perfect for each other, and our family will do our best to keep them safe.”

“I hope Corvo will get a thoughtbound soon,” his mother said. “I’m so worried. He needs someone who can reach him.”

Corvo pushed away from his bed as nausea crawled through him. He was so tired, but he couldn’t stay still a moment longer. He escaped the house before his mother came home. Later that day he got into his first fight, and as bright pain bloomed on his split knuckles Corvo momentarily forgot how lonely he was.

Corvo turned fifteen in the fall, but the day passed him by. He had thrown himself into fighting after the worst of the shock passed, and his birthday didn’t really warrant attention. His mother was working late, and Corvo knew she would feel bad for not being able to afford a proper celebration. So he left the day before and told his mother he would be gone for some time. If she protested, Corvo didn’t hear any of it. He was already halfway down the street.

He had nowhere to go, so he headed towards the smaller villages on foot. He knew he could get into trouble there, pass a few days fighting street gangs, and then return home to lick his wounds and pretend everything was fine. He could force himself to focus on the physical pain. It would remind him of why he was fighting; he didn’t want to go work in the mines or lumbering.

There was a gaping wound inside Corvo’s chest. It was the place where his thoughtbound should have been, and in their absence it was aching. Corvo had no idea what would happen if his mysterious counterpart never returned, but the thought of living with this gnawing hurt was enough to drive him on. It was terrifying.

Much, much later that day Corvo slumped against a wall as he cradled a broken rib or two and tried to breathe. He had underestimated the large boy he had challenged, and he had run Corvo straight into a wall as the match turned into grappling. Corvo had bested him, but his lip was split, his right eye was rapidly swelling shut, and breathing hurt so much he thought he might pass out.

He staggered to a dock that streaked its way towards the sea, and when he reached the end he finally collapsed. Corvo knew hiding there was stupid; if someone found him they could easily push him into the water, but right then he didn’t care. 

He was fifteen, he was completely alone, and now at least his chest hurt with a physical pain to almost drown out the empty, yawning chasm where his soulmate should be.

Corvo rolled onto his back with some difficulty. The night had fallen while he had been dragging himself to safety, and now he could watch the constellations flicker and glimmer. The entire sky was like an upended bowl of darkness and speckled lights. He let his gaze wander, going from the leviathan to the twin spirits and the oldest eye. Corvo forced a smile.

_ Hey, soulmate,  _ he called into the emptiness.  _ I bet you don’t get skies this pretty. Wherever the void you are. _

Gods, but he was tired. His dreams were disjointed and threadbare most nights, except when they felt like plummeting into an ice-cold ocean that rang with whalesong. Corvo didn’t know which ones he hated more.

_ Hey. Fuck you.  _ He didn’t even manage to scrape up enough heat for it to come out as anything but sad and exhausted.  _ We were supposed to keep each other safe. _

He wasn’t expecting anything. He had tried to call for his soulmate so many times, and each attempt had felt like shouting at a wall of ice. So when suddenly a wave of foreign hurt and loneliness crashed through him, Corvo gasped. He let out a whimper of pain, ribs throbbing. 

**_Fuck you too._ **

Corvo wanted to laugh, but what escaped his mouth was a hiccup. He had started to cry the second the link had opened again, but he didn’t care; it felt like his thoughtbound wasn’t doing much better.

**_I can’t fucking keep you safe. I can’t even keep_ ** **myself** **_safe._ **

Corvo watched the sky swim as he tried to blink the relieved tears away.  _ And feeling like that is better?  _ Corvo knew he didn’t need to specify what he meant; the year had been long and bleak, and he had felt like half of his soul had been missing.

Silence, but not the emptiness of the severed link. This one was regretful.

**_I’m sorry._ ** There was a faint quiver in the bond, and it made Corvo ache. He wanted to reach across the distance and take his thoughtbound into his arms. 

**_I live a very dangerous life. There’s no place for a soulmate._ **

_ This isn’t just about you! I need a soulmate. I need someone who’s mine.  _ Corvo struggled into a sitting position, and bit back another whimper. There was a brush of anger, but as soon as the pain flitted over it was replaced by concern.

**_You’re hurt._ **

_ Cracked a few ribs. Nothing for you to worry about. _

A flare of frustrated anger.  **_What happened?_ **

Corvo rolled his eyes.  _ Got into a fight. _

**_Please tell me you at least won that one._ **

_ Piss off.  _

They fell into silence. Corvo was floating in the relief of not being alone inside his head anymore. There was a very distant echo that felt exactly the same; his mysterious soulmate was just as undone.

_ We can’t live like that,  _ Corvo finally said.  _ You can’t shut me out. I thought I was going to lose it. _

Corvo thought about how the world had been leeched of half its colors, how emotions dampened and subdued immediately after the initial spark. He remembered the worried glances of his mother. She would ask about his soulmate soon, Corvo knew that. He wasn’t even close to ready for having that discussion.

His thoughtbound drew in a deep breath and let it slowly hiss out. 

**_I know. But I can’t come find you. We can’t be—anything._ **

_ Why not?  _ Corvo asked. He looked at the stars again. The bright star that was the eye of the leviathan seemed to wink at him.  _ I’ve never heard of soulmates not finding each other. _

**_I was taken away. A long time ago._ ** Corvo got the feeling his soulmate was trying tooth and nail to lock down any feeling, but it was hopeless; anger and grief were rippling across the bond.

**_I was taken from my home, and they taught me to— I didn’t become a good person._ **

_ I don’t give a shit. _

A chuckle, unmistakable.  **_You might, if you knew me._ **

Corvo sighed. He was so tired.  _ So we’ll just, what? Live inside each other’s heads? _

**_I guess so._ **

_ Great.  _

There was a long silence. Corvo was almost nodding off when the bond rippled. 

**_Why did you get into a fight?_ **

Corvo bit his lip, but then decided that the nameless, faceless person he was bound to was probably the last person who would judge him.

_ I’m small for my age. I’m shit at school, but I want to be a swordsman one day. So I’m trying to learn. _

Another chuckle. It made Corvo scowl.  _ I don’t exactly have a lot of options, you asshole.  _

**_Sorry. I’m just...trying to imagine what you’re like._ **

Corvo closed his eyes and willed the hurt away before it would bleed over. Then he tried to send the mental equivalent of a shrug over to his thoughtbound.

_ I’m just trying to survive. _

**_Sounds familiar._ **

Sleep tugged Corvo under sometime after that. When he woke up his ribs were still cracked and his right eye looked like an overripe tomato. But there was also a faint hum inside his head, and his chest no longer felt like it would cave in.

*

Learning to live with his soulmate was both easier and harder than Corvo expected. They circled around topics that were deemed too close to real life, but slowly Corvo came to know that his soulmate was a few years older than him, sometimes smoked, and that they were living somewhere in Gristol. The last bit was uncertain, but they complained about rain and fog so often that Corvo treated it as one more fact.

The real shift happened when he was dueling for the first time. There was a retired Grand Guard soldier who had taken Corvo and a handful of other kids under his wing. The winter air was cool and wet, the dull sword was an unfamiliar weight in his hand, and there was a strike coming Corvo knew he wasn’t strong enough to block.

**_Move._ **

It wasn’t a word so much as an impulse straight into his brain, and Corvo’s body twisted out of the way. His partner stumbled, his weight too fully behind the swing, and Corvo was already riposting— 

**_Down._ **

He bent his knees, out of the way of the backhand slash, twirled around his opponent— 

Sheer joy, not only his own but shared, there was someone inside his head and he was so  _ alive— _

**_And now, go!_ **

Corvo kicked his opponent’s feet from under him and pressed the sword against the back of his neck, and then felt like he surfaced from a very vivid dream. The Grand Guard soldier was staring in amazement, his opponent was swearing at him, and inside his head his soulmate was laughing. A slow smile broke free.

**_Not bad._ **

Later that evening Corvo leaned back on his bed and sank into the bond. He felt the answer immediately, and at the heels of the presence came that feeling that he wasn’t entirely alone in his body.

_ You did something today.  _ Corvo yawned. He was exhausted, bruised and scraped, but his mind was burning up with curiosity.

**_You’re welcome._ **

_ Asshole. You helped me. _

**_Yeah. I...felt you were fighting, and somehow I slipped in._ **

Corvo grinned at his ceiling.  _ I had a little trouble explaining where I’d learned that. Couldn’t very well say my thoughtbound apparently fights dirty. _

Laughter, a little embarrassed.  **_The only way I know of, I’m afraid._ **

_ Can we do that again?  _ Corvo felt his thoughtbound inside his head, and when he focused he could feel something else, too. He knew he was lying on his back on his bed, but at the same time there was the ghost of a foreign feeling; a cold wind whipping his hair, and the smell of something unpleasant, like stagnant water.

**_Like we’re doing now?_ ** Corvo knew his thoughtbound could feel it too.  **_I don’t know if it will work again._ **

_ It’s working now,  _ Corvo pointed out. 

**_Yeah._ **

_ It’s nice,  _ Corvo whispered before he realized he was skirting the edges of what he had privately started to treat as allowed. A silence followed, but to his surprise the presence didn’t pull back. He could still smell the water, but it felt as if his soulmate had turned their face upwind; now there was the tang of sea salt.

**_It is. I hate it when people touch me, but this is different._ **

The words flickered over more as intention and half-formed thoughts than anything verbal, but hearing them made Corvo smile. 

He dreamed of the deep ocean that night, but for once he wasn’t alone. He could feel someone in the unfathomable waters with him, fingertips ghosting down his arm every now and then.

*

Winning the Blade Verbena was like drinking fine wine, so light on his tongue that he was drunk before he knew what hit him. It was sunshine and the brisk wind from the sea, cheering of crowds and people smiling, smiling at him.

It was feeling his soulmate inside his head, their joy and pride etched over everything like a sweet song only Corvo could hear. They didn’t talk, because they didn’t have to; Corvo felt them as he was dragged away into a party, he felt them there like a thrum in his bones, like there was a second heartbeat just behind his own.

**_I’m proud of you,_ ** they whispered once the party wound down in the small hours of the morning and Corvo was finally staggering back home.  **_You showed everyone that noble birth’s not all that matters._ **

_ Couldn’t have done it without you.  _ Corvo was smiling so wide his face hurt. He was bruised and lightheaded, still giddy after everything that had passed. 

**_You fought alone._ **

_ But you helped me get there. _

It was a familiar discussion. Corvo’s soulmate had guided him through the training, slipping in and out as needed. Corvo’s body had adopted a fighting style that was odd and violent; it was sinuous and deadly, something his tutors gossiped over as they tried to understand where Corvo was picking up the fleeting footwork and his habit of sometimes flipping his blade to grip it arm-wise. Corvo had modified his first proper sword with a friend who was training to be a smith; together they had removed the handguard and adjusted the handle until the weapon was unusable to anyone else but him.

As Corvo slipped inside his home he was still smiling. It just turned a bit softer.

_ I wish I could see you fighting someday. _

The silence was tinged with melancholy. They no longer talked about finding each other, but sometimes Corvo let these small mentions slip. He would give anything, anything to look his soulmate in the eye, to touch them. 

**_But you do,_ ** his soulmate whispered.  **_Every time you look at yourself, I’m there too._ **

A shiver raced down Corvo’s spine. He imagined looking at himself in a mirror and seeing a dark shadow just behind himself. He leaned against his bedroom wall.

_ Are you here now? _

Corvo thought of how his thoughtbound had told they hated to be touched. How that tension had bled away over the time they had been training together and allowing the boundary between their minds to blur.

Instead of words, a ghost of—not a touch, but something else. Like a breath at the back of his neck, or the feeling just before you land the perfect strike in a fight. Euphoria that made his breaths grow shallow.

**_I’m here._ ** The whisper was barely there, and Corvo swallowed thickly. He was suddenly aware of his whole body, sweat beading on his upper lip and the way his nerves were singing. It was almost like a good fight, just with him completely still as he focused on the energy pulling at him.

Corvo closed his eyes. He could smell something like smoke and moist wind, and the next second it was joined by a ghost of a touch; fingertips grazing his arms. Gooseflesh erupted where they brushed.

**_I’m watching you. I didn’t mean to, but you’re in my blood. You’re the only one I—_ **

Corvo realized he was smiling. It was a shaky thing. They had inhabited his body every now and then, both of them, but now he was struggling to stay upright as his soulmate reached for him through the bond. Their minds were not overlapping so much as gently meeting in the middle and looking for places to fill.

_ I can feel you,  _ Corvo whispered just as he imagined hearing shuffling footsteps. He didn’t open his eyes, because his entire being told him there was someone standing right in front of him, and he didn’t want to break the illusion. Not when he could feel the warmth radiating through his thin shirt. The fingers touching him retreated, and Corvo made a soft, disappointed noise. There was an indrawn breath, and then a hand cupped his chin.

It was a warm, big hand, with calluses that matched the ones Corvo himself had. Corvo knew his mouth was hanging open, but he was only distantly aware of it. His knees were going weak, and then he finally thought to reach back. He didn’t know what to expect as he extended his hand, but then he could feel something rough against his palm.

Corvo pressed his hand against his thoughtbound’s chest. They drew in a shaky breath, but when no protests followed Corvo let his hand move, sliding it upwards until he could feel bare skin. There was a scar, sneaking up from the collar of their shirt, and Corvo tracked it.

_ Who did this? _

Another shaky exhale.  **_She’s dead. Tried to rob me when I was asleep._ **

Corvo nodded. His soulmate’s fingers moved from his jaw and buried into Corvo’s hair. They were there and at the same time there was no one stroking the overlong strands. It made Corvo’s head swim in the best way.

**_You need a haircut._ **

_ Piss off.  _ Corvo shook with laughter. At the same time he was feeling giddy, because no one had touched him like this before. His friends might hug or slap him depending on the day, his mother sometimes brushed his hair, but this was different. His soulmate was learning Corvo’s outlines with hands that trembled a little, and Corvo was able to feel them trying to contain the thrilling excitement.

Corvo walked his fingers higher. With his eyes closed, he saw a strong jawline, a dip in their chin, a nose that wrinkled with a huff of laughter as he touched it. Corvo knew he was still smiling, and when his other hand found his soulmate’s face he could feel the expression mirrored there. His thumbs brushed the corners of the smile. There was a hint of stubble whispering against his hands.

_ Is touching like this ok? _

The hand in Corvo’s hair tightened. Corvo went still, but instead of his soulmate withdrawing they suddenly closed the distance. Corvo gasped as a solid frame pressed against him, trapping him against the wall with its phantom presence. He knew he was alone in his room, but at the same time he was breathing the same air with someone who was hundreds of leagues away.

**_Yeah._ ** His soulmate’s voice was a little off, like they were holding something back.  **_I like this._ **

Corvo took a moment to understand, but then he felt his gut twinge. With what little he knew of his soulmate, it was apparent no one touched them like this; with friendly hands, without the intention to hurt. It was not like Corvo was an expert on being gentle, but he could tell that compared to his soulmate he’d received an abundance of comfort in his life.

Suddenly there was a moist breath against his lips. Corvo jerked in surprise, but before his soulmate could retreat, he slid a hand behind their head. Their noses bumped together, and Corvo could feel how his own racing pulse matched that of his soulmate.

_ Damn,  _ he murmured. 

His thoughtbound chuckled. There was a nervous tension in their frame, but it didn’t feel like they wanted to pull away. Judging by how tight they were holding Corvo’s hair, it was the opposite.

**_Can I_ ** —

Corvo held his breath as he felt lips skim his cheek. He was burning to turn his head, but he made himself stay still.

_ Yeah. Yeah. _

And then the lips pressed against his. Corvo sighed as he tilted his head, and he felt the exhalation against his mouth. It should have felt weird when he knew he was alone, but it wasn’t. There was someone kissing him, and Corvo screwed his eyes shut tighter as he parted his lips.

It was slow, a bit clumsy, but the link was rippling; Corvo had never felt it grow so intense before, not even when his soulmate had slipped in to fight alongside him. Corvo could tell they were just as overwhelmed as he was in that moment.

**_I— Please._ **

_ I’ve got you. _

The kiss ended but his soulmate lingered close. Corvo felt their unsteady breathing against his own chest. Corvo finally dislodged his hands from their face.He half-feared his thoughtbound would retreat, but they remained there.

Finally a thought occurred to him.

_ You’re a guy.  _

A laugh.  **_So are you._ **

Corvo frowned.  _ How can you tell? _

**_I’ve known all along, I think._ ** Corvo almost imagined he could see a grin.  **_But especially after you started jerking off._ **

Corvo’s neck was suddenly on fire. He buried his face into his hands.

_ I thought I shut you out! _

**_You suck at it, honestly._ **

_ Sorry. _

A very light touch, like fingertips ghosting down his jawline.  **_It’s alright. I like it. I know I said I don’t want to be touched, but this is different._ **

Corvo huffed an embarrassed breath, but he was smiling again. He realized he’d just gotten his first kiss.

_ What are we? _

Corvo was burning with the need to name the connection. He yearned for his soulmate, wanted to be cherished like the stories described. He wasn’t careful enough to conceal it, and he could feel as his thoughtbound jerked his head up.

There was a tense silence. When Corvo thought back he realized he had not pressed the issue for a long while. Knowing that they had been growing closer only because of that was like ice skittering down his spine.

**_I don’t—_ **

_ Forget it.  _ Corvo dug his palms into his eyesockets to fight back the tears. He couldn’t bear to hear it.  _ Forget. I know we can’t— That you don’t— _

The tears were wiped away angry motions. Corvo breathed through his mouth as he tried to gather himself.

_ What’s your name? _

He had asked that before, and every time his thoughtbound had refused to answer. He didn’t expect anything this time, either, but he wanted to ask. 

There was an uneasy pause, and Corvo wished desperately that he could run his fingers through his soulmate’s hair. He tried to imagine what he looked like, and unprompted there was a feeling against his fingers; short, thick hair. The color of dark coffee. His thoughtbound felt it too, there was a startled exhale followed by a rush of pleasure.

**_Davy._ **

Corvo opened his eyes.  _ Sorry? _

**_You can… You can call me Davy._ **

_ That’s not your real name, is it? _

Lips, pressing against the corner of his mouth.  **_No. But it’s close._ **

Corvo closed his eyes. The day’s energy was finally draining away. He wanted to sleep for a week. He wanted to forget about his wish to be claimed.

He could feel hesitation in the bond. Corvo imagined the link as a soft string that stretched between him and Davy, from Serkonos to Gristol. The winds wouldn’t touch it, he thought distantly.

_ You can ask,  _ he thought.

**_Do want to give me your name?_ **

Corvo smiled. He knew the feeling would slip through. He thought about his name and the kind of bird that it meant. It was somehow too dark for a moment as good as this one. So unprompted he pictured another bird. Wings like jewels, seasalt on its beak. Winter nests and celebrations.

_ Martin,  _ he said.  _ You can call me Martin. _

A chuckle, threaded with amusement. __

**_Good night, Martin._ **

_ Night, Davy. _

*

Generally Corvo paid little mind to whether Davy could listen in on his life.  _ He _ had nothing to hide. Even when the duke summoned him to the court Corvo didn’t think of closing off the link; having Davy in the back of his head was a comfort. The Grand Palace was an ancient, huge building in traditional Serkonan architecture, and Corvo felt every bit of his humble background as he was marched to meet the duke in a borrowed dress uniform. 

Duke Theodanis Abele looked at Corvo with an odd smile as he started to explain the situation. Many people had immigrated to Serkonos after the Morey insurrection, and the emperor was suspicious of the southernmost island of his realm. The situation with capital was stable but tense, and the duke wished to offer the emperor something of a precious gift as a show of goodwill.

Corvo listened and he didn’t really understand.

“You are the youngest person to ever win Blade Verbena,” Theodanis Abele said. He sighed. “Offering your service to the emperor will be seen as a symbol of my realm giving up the best fighter we have.”

There was an apology hidden somewhere, Corvo was sure of it. He barely managed a stiff nod.

“You will be sent to Gristol, to serve under Emperor Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin.”

Corvo opened his mouth, but the bond flashed with white-hot alarm. It made him twitch as dread that was not his own crashed through him. With no warning his heart started to hammer as adrenaline made his fingers numb. His vision swam, and for a second the lights of the candles and lamps illuminating the courtroom melted into a golden blur.

Corvo pushed back with everything he had. He sensed all eyes were on him, and he couldn’t,  _ wouldn’t _ give them the satisfaction of falling apart.

The duke noticed his shock, but as Corvo wrestled the feelings under control and locked them down, Theodanis Abele appeared to think he’d just been privy to the shock of a young man. Corvo was drenched in a cold sweat as he bowed and accepted the honor. He kept his arms against his sides to hide how his hands were shaking.

The second Corvo was out of the Grand Palace he had to loosen his grip on the bond; it was going haywire. It crashed through him again, Davy’s sudden and all-consuming anxiety Corvo couldn’t explain. Corvo pushed back, just enough so that he could make out the words of the Grand Guard soldier explaining that he had one day to gather his belongings and say goodbyes, that he was expected to be at the docks the following day before sunrise.

**_Martin? What is happening? Answer me!_ **

Corvo’s head was pounding. When he was left alone, he tried to catch his breath, but his head was getting buried under the onslaught of frantic alarm.

He couldn’t answer to Davy now. 

**_Martin!_ **

Corvo screwed his eyes shut and exhaled. Then he  _ shoved _ at the bond, violently. He felt Davy recoil, and Corvo pressed his advantage like it was just another fight. He forced his own will until he had the upper hand, and then sealed the connection off as well as he could. His head cleared as the foreign fear drained away, and Corvo sent a silent apology to Davy. He’d explain, but right now Corvo had one day left with what remained of his family. 

He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

Paloma Attano came to the docks with him the following morning. She wasn’t crying anymore, and in the dim light preceding the sunrise her eyes were clear and her back was straight. Corvo held her hand as he let the duffel sack thud to the ground.

His mother’s black hair was going silver. Her eyes were tired as she looked at Corvo. He’d let her tie his hair back, for the first time since he’d been a boy. She’d sang to him as she’d brushed it neat, and Corvo had closed his eyes to fight back tears. His mother had hummed a traveling song as she’d worked in a small braid, an ancient tradition from the times when no one in Serkonos had ever heard of the Abbey.

It was meant to bring good luck.

His mother gave his fingers a squeeze. Corvo blinked rapidly. He was no longer a boy, but something about leaving Karnaca was making him afraid. It had something to do with Davy fighting to break through the bond, pleading at Corvo to explain what was happening. Corvo knew there was a very good chance he’d never see his mother again. 

“You never told me when your bond came to life.”

Corvo’s head jerked up. His mother was looking at him with a sad, fond smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice it. I wish I could have offered you advice.”

Corvo shook his head. He had to close his eyes to stop himself from crying, because even thinking about Davy and how he didn’t want Corvo to find him was too much; Corvo knew his back would break under the strain now that he was losing his mother as well.

His mother cupped his cheek as the wayward tears leaked out and Corvo’s breath hitched. She wiped them away, and Corvo tried to cast the feel of her fingers into his memory; the tips hardened by needlework but still infinitely delicate and gentle. Just like the rest of her.

“I’m sad I didn’t get to shelter you, or to say farewell to Beatrici,” she murmured. Corvo heard she was smiling. “But I get to send you on your way. I get to see you board that ship and go face the unknown.”

She pulled him into one last hug, and Corvo held her close as a sob wracked his body. He was nineteen, but right then he felt young and helpless, and so very alone.

“Go find your soulmate, my son,” Paloma Attano whispered. “They are waiting for you somewhere, and there isn’t a force strong enough to rip you apart.”

For a second Corvo wanted to let it all spill out. He wanted to tell his mother about Davy, how Corvo was going to the city where he lived and how they still wouldn’t get to be together. He wanted to cry and be comforted, because Davy would never gather him close and rock him; Davy wouldn’t be the person to carry half of Corvo’s sorrows.

It was too late now. Corvo knew that. Someone was ringing a bell on the highest deck of the ship, signaling the departure. The sound carried far, and it was like metallic birdsong that signaled that his time in Karnaca had run out. So Corvo just held his mother close and whispered the last choked-off ‘I love you’ into her ear.

*

The first time Corvo saw Dunwall he felt something uneasy go through him. He was standing at the beak of the ship, heedless of the salty wind and cold water. He watched the unforgiving skyline and felt—afraid. The day was overcast, and a faint drizzle floated down like it, too, was reluctant to make landfall in Dunwall.

Corvo reached deep inside himself and felt for the bond. He had meant to open it earlier, but he had been so afraid. He’d shied away from admitting to Davy that he was afraid, because there would be no comfort he could expect. Yet the moment Corvo probed at the lock, it crumbled, and he felt Davy draw in a startled gasp. A flare of anger followed, but worry dampened it before it could so much as brush against Corvo.

**_Martin. Tell me. Please._ **

Davy’s voice broke. Corvo sighed. He didn’t know if the stinging in his eyes was seawater or tears.

**_I know something is happening. I’ve felt your unease for the past fortnight. Why did you lock me out?_ **

Corvo’s gaze tracked the skyline. It looked like a band of broken teeth, stretched against the gray Gristol sky.

_ I’m no longer in Serkonos. _

Corvo could feel Davy’s surprise. There was the distinct feeling of vertigo, but then it passed. Just for a second Corvo thought of a high building, and a busy street below.

**_What?_ ** Shock. Fear. Nausea.

_ The duke gifted me to the emperor.  _ Corvo didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry.  _ I didn’t know Dunwall looked so gloomy. _

**_No. Void—no._ **

Corvo remembered Davy’s halting words, about how he’d been taken away. They had not talked about it, mostly because Davy withdrew and waves of hurt engulfed the bond whenever Corvo had tried to bring it up. It was just as volatile a topic as Corvo slipping up and calling Davy  _ his. _

_ We will make harbor in half an hour. _

He didn’t know why he told Davy this. He no longer held any real hope of the two of them meeting.

Helpless rage kindled on Davy’s end. At first Corvo thought it was directed at him, but then it turned inwards and blazed so hot and bitter he recoiled.

_ Davy, what— _

**_I couldn’t— I wanted to—to keep you from harm. And I couldn’t._ **

The words were delivered in a faint voice, but they struck Corvo like a thunderclap. For a moment he couldn’t even breathe.

_ What? _

He felt Davy’s chest heave as he dragged in panicked breaths. Corvo could smell rotten meat, sweet and clogging.

**_I thought I could… I don’t know! I wanted you to be safe!_ **

And now the anger was his own. It roared inside him, deafening and full of hurt. Corvo hit the metal railing he’d been gripping. His gloves did nothing to cushion the impact, and pain rattled up his arm.

_ You told me you didn’t want me!  _ Now there were definitely tears. They left hot tracks down Corvo’s cheeks.  _ Why do you even care where I am? You don’t even want to meet me! _

Gasping breaths, like Davy was drowning. Chills raced down Corvo’s whole body as he tried to keep breathing. 

**_You weren’t meant to come to Dunwall!_ **

_ Fuck you.  _ Corvo rubbed the tears away in angry, clipped motions.  _ FUCK YOU, Davy.  _ He tried to shove all of his resenting hurt into it, and he succeeded. Davy staggered against his onslaught.

There was no answer. Corvo waited and watched with unseeing eyes as a rust-speckled trawler sailed past them. The whale rigged up to the metal apparatus was alive, and its wailing calls made him want to throw up.

And then for the first time in years Corvo felt Davy withdraw from the link. He didn’t close it, but nothing came through. Corvo looked at the gray water as the ship sailed closer to his new home, and he couldn’t say he was surprised. 

*

His arrival to Dunwall was marked by rain and fog, accompanied by people sneering at his accent and his brown skin. It was evident that Dunwall didn’t want Corvo, and the feeling was mutual. Corvo spent a lot of time thinking about Davy and what he’d said about having to carve yourself a place in a hostile world.

Davy and him. They were close, and yet they knew practically nothing of each other. Davy knew Corvo had been serving in the Grand Guard, but that was only because a year ago Corvo had broken his clavicle, and Davy had recognized the stench of a field hospital. He’d kept Corvo company in the tropical heat, and they’d bickered which was worse, constant and chilling rain or stifling, moist warmth. It hadn’t been a pleasant place to celebrate his eighteenth birthday, but with Davy in his head it wasn’t even close to miserable.

The bond was...shrinking. Their talks never resumed as Corvo tried to find his footing in the city. Davy’s presence came back at some point, but neither of them said a word. The link was always there, but Davy rarely talked in words any longer. Corvo tried a few times, but holding a conversation alone exhausted him. He never grew any wiser who or where Davy was. 

Corvo knew nothing of substance about Davy. His soulmate had claimed that he was not a good man, and in a place like Dunwall Corvo quickly came to see just what that might mean. He tried not to think about it, but every time there was news of yet another robbery or an assassination he couldn’t help wondering whether his soulmate was behind that. Physically Davy was closer to him than ever before, but they drifted further and further apart from each other.

It wasn’t very different from life before, and yet it was. Dunwall didn’t have to leech colors from Corvo’s life, because everything was dull-colored already. The food was bland, and eventually Corvo gave up on ever hearing music performed by living humans. All there was were the clunky audiographs and tinny music, its notes foreign to him.

Davy slipped only once. It was three years after Corvo had been chosen as Royal Protector. He was touring the Dunwall Tower barracks when suddenly there was a lurch, and the next thing he knew he was breaking out in a cold sweat. He felt rusty metal under his palms, thin air beneath his feet. The stench of Wrenhaven filled his nose. A flash of sunlight and a skyline Corvo recognized.

He made up an excuse for his stumbling, and when he finally had some privacy he pushed all his worry into the bond.

_ Davy? What happened? _

Instead of words, he felt something cold, colder than anything. Then there was a faint note that echoed through his bones like whalesong. It was like one of his uncanny dreams, but it was coming from Davy. Corvo had never mentioned the dreams to anyone.

_ Davy?! _

No answer. Corvo went to sleep with a knot of worry in his gut. The link was still there, but it felt like Davy was—asleep, or very, very far away. The following day that distance was gone, with the bond back to its normal wordless waves. Corvo ached to reach for Davy and ask what had happened, but he was still so angry and hurting. Davy didn’t want to worry about him, and Corvo felt like his own heart betrayed him every time he wished Davy was safe.

He still felt petty for not reaching out. 

Dunwall and him gradually reached a delicate truce; Corvo still didn’t like the city, and the majority of people treated him with either scorn or fear. But protecting Jessamine was turning out to be something Corvo was very, very good at, and it gave him room to maneuver. Being so fundamentally different from everyone gave him an aura of mystery that Corvo didn’t know was entirely deserved.

The Tower Guard accepted him as one of their own after Corvo bested every one of their officers while sparring, and he even made a few friends. The closest one was Geoff Curnow, a lieutenant who had been transferred to the Tower Guard against his will. To him, Corvo confessed he had never had a choice about coming to Gristol, and Geoff just nodded. He understood.

It was over a year later when Davy reached for him. Corvo had only been sleeping for a few hours, a long day tucked away inside his head, when he woke up with a jolt. He blinked against the predawn darkness, and for a short while he thought there was someone in the room with him. Then he felt the familiar tug of the bond.

**_Sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm._ **

_ Davy.  _ Corvo heard how his mind-voice broke. He had given up on ever hearing Davy’s voice again.

**_Martin._ **

There was something...different about Davy. That whalesong note was there, more like a physical thing than an actual sound. Corvo tried to find words to describe it, but he failed. That whistle had woven itself into the link they shared.

_ What happened? Are you alright? I felt you when— _

A chuckle, with a dark note.  **_Yeah. Better than ever._ **

_ What does that mean? _

**_You know how people in Dunwall think thoughtbonds are just stories?_ **

Corvo frowned. He closed his eyes again, and felt a brief brush of breath against his lips. He shivered. 

_ I guess so. The people I work with don’t believe in them. _

He’d never told Davy just who he was working for. If the Abbey found out that the Royal Protector was a heretic with a magic bond to a killer, they’d hang him for certain. It was bad enough that Corvo was from Serkonos and his looks let no one forget it. 

Jess didn’t care; she had not cared when she had picked Corvo, and later she had come to cherish his culture in a way that made Corvo’s chest tight.

It hadn’t been too hard to deduce what Davy did for a living. Corvo tried not to think about it. He would go insane if he tried to make sense of what he felt for Davy, because it was so much more than a feeling. It was who he was, and who Davy was, what they would be together. What he was beginning to feel for Jessamine was something far removed; the two feelings were so utterly different from each other.

Jessamine was something good. She was like sunlight glittering on the waves on a windy day. Corvo knew he was standing on the other side of a crevasse from her, something they could never truly bridge, but at the same time Jessamine was reaching for him. They would never understand each other instinctively, hear each others’ true voices—but there were no soulmates in Gristol. The Abbey made it clear.

Davy was… complicated. Davy was an ocean current, so cold it took his breath away, stole all hesitation until Corvo was drawing in lungfuls of salty water. Davy was fundamentally unknowable, not because he refused to tell Corvo who he was, but because he and Corvo were made for each other. The sum of their parts would be something altogether different from what they were individually. 

Deep inside his chest Corvo knew that he’d do anything for his soulmate, if Davy would let him. Davy was his home, the one Corvo was made for. Davy was supposed to be his. And he was also someone who apparently didn’t want Corvo. Even after living in the same city for years now, Corvo was still none the wiser who he truly was. And it hurt, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

**_What if… What if more old stories were true?_ **

Corvo turned on his side. He was tired and sore. It was late, and Davy hadn’t talked to him properly for two and a half years. They hadn’t shared a single moment of intimacy after Corvo had arrived to Gristol. Before that they had often indulged in their odd, disjointed form of touching and being close. Corvo had had sex with other people, and what he did with Davy was completely different from that. Davy had agreed; Corvo got the feeling that his soulmate wasn’t very interested in sex. 

Corvo was also sure that if they ever met in real life he’d know Davy’s body as well as his own. They shared a soul, and it translated into knowing the physical dimensions of a man Corvo had never met.

_ What do you mean? _

His exhaustion must have been palpable, because for a while Corvo could imagine a hand carding through his hair. It was just one of those not-touches, but it almost made him whine; he missed feeling Davy.

**_Is something wrong?_ **

_ Why do you care? _

Fingers pressing into his arm. Frustration.

**_You’re—_ **

_ What am I, Davy?  _ Corvo spat the words into the link.  _ You left me alone for three years. I fucking hate Dunwall. You’re here and you refuse to find me. _

The touch grew slack and vanished. Corvo felt how hot and tight his throat was, and he didn’t know if that was just him. He didn’t really care. He knew Davy had almost fallen off from the Kaldwin’s Bridge that day. They were separated only by a few miles, and Corvo had thought he’d grown used to the dull hurt the knowledge caused but now it stung like a shiv between his ribs all over again.

**_If I could, I’d release you._ **

_ Fuck you!  _ Corvo felt tears leak out and he angrily brushed them away.  _ We never got to choose this, but I thought you would… I don’t know, change your mind. Let me be with you. _

The thing that hurt the most was remembering how happy the mental connection had made his parents; Corvo had hoped that with time Davy’s mind would change. That he would choose Corvo, in the end.

They didn’t say anything else that night, but as Corvo fell asleep there was a muffled sob through the bond.

*

Jessamine kissed Corvo on the second day of the Month of Rain in 1823. Corvo kissed her back. He took her to bed and he felt happy. Jess was the sunlight glitter over the waves, the fresh wind that blew at the top of the Dunwall Tower. She was secretly gentle and soft, despite ruling over an empire. Her lips were the first ones to touch Corvo’s in real life.

Corvo loved her so much.

The following night he woke up to the link practically crackling with something he didn’t have a name for. Corvo lay in the darkness of his room and tried to catch his breath. He waited for Davy to say something,  _ anything. _

**_You fell in love._ **

_ Yes. _

There was no use denying it. And Corvo was so tired of missing Davy. 

**_Who is it?_ ** Davy’s voice was controlled, and Corvo could feel the enormous effort behind that facade. 

_ It’s… I’m her bodyguard. _

**_Mixing business and play, huh?_ ** It sounded like Davy might be crying.

_ It should have been you,  _ Corvo thought.  _ I don’t love her like I—  _

**_Don’t say it. Martin. Please._ **

Davy hadn’t called him Martin in a long time. Corvo closed his eyes and imagined kingfishers flitting across the sun-kissed waters of Serkonos.

_ Like I love you. _

Bright pain, right at the center of his chest. Corvo felt how Davy staggered backwards and then slid down, pressing his knuckles into his eye sockets.

**_You have no idea—_ **

_ No, I don’t! Because you never told me! _

**_I’m not someone you should lov—_ **

_ But I do, so fuck you! I didn’t get to choose, which you seem to forget every time this comes up. This isn’t just about you. _

**_Martin, I’m a killer! If my enemies find out I have a soulmate, they’ll come for you._ **

_ That’s just a bunch of crap and you know it.  _ Corvo curled up into a ball.  _ I’m just trying to survive. So yeah, I fell in love with someone who likes me, who knows what my fucking face looks like and what my real name is.  _

The silence that followed was broken only by Corvo’s heaving breaths as he struggled to tame the sadness into something that wouldn’t crush him.

_ You could’ve had that, Davy. But you don’t want it. _

**_No, Martin, listen. I can’t help wanting_ ** **you** **_, but I never wanted this connection—_ **

_ Shut up! I’m going to live my life,  _ Corvo thought viciously, drowning out Davy’s words. He wanted to lash out and hurt someone, but whether it was himself or Davy was unclear.  _ I’m going to be happy, somehow, because the Outsider knows I won’t find that with you. _

There was a shudder of terror, but it was gone before Corvo could tell what caused it. 

**_I just… I’m so sorry._ **

_ Yeah. Who isn’t.  _

For the first time in years, it was Corvo who pulled away from the link. He knew he couldn’t close it, but he made an effort to retreat. Gradually he felt Davy fade, until he was just a distant hum at the back of his mind.

_ A ghost that lives inside me,  _ Corvo thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_The Kingfisher_ by William Henry Davies**
> 
> It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,  
> And left thee all her lovely hues;  
> And, as her mother’s name was Tears,  
> So runs it in my blood to choose  
> For haunts the lonely pools, and keep  
> In company with trees that weep.  
> Go you and, with such glorious hues,  
> Live with proud peacocks in green parks;  
> On lawns as smooth as shining glass,  
> Let every feather show its marks;  
> Get thee on boughs and clap thy wings  
> Before the windows of proud kings.  
> Nay, lovely Bird, thou art not vain;  
> Thou hast no proud, ambitious mind;  
> I also love a quiet place  
> That’s green, away from all mankind;  
> A lonely pool, and let a tree  
> Sigh with her bosom over me. 
> 
> ***
> 
>  _Martin pescatore,_ (Italian): kingfisher


	2. That my keen knife see not the wound it makes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by [Kiko](https://twitter.com/ConAffettoKiko) who has done an insane amount of work for this fic. I can't begin to tell y'all how much better it is because of her efforts.
> 
> Note about timelines: for this fic I assumed that the night Corvo deals with Campbell is the same day when the Overseers storm Daud's base.
> 
> Chapter title taken from the speech _The raven himself is hoarse,_ spoken by Lady Macbeth in William Shakespeare's play _Macbeth._

_ 14 years later _

The Wrenhaven stank. 

Corvo wanted to breathe in the air of Dunwall, of  _ home _ , but in three months the air itself had changed. There was a sickness in it now, and as Captain Curnow steered the boat into the waterlock, Corvo finally accepted that he had failed.

No help was coming. He was going to walk up to the gazebo, look Jess in the eye, and tell her no one was coming; that the other Isles were going to barricade Dunwall until there was just a mountain of corpses left. What they planned to do after that, Corvo didn’t know. Burn the whole city, perhaps.

“Corvo! You’re back!”

Corvo bit back the worry as he hugged Emily close. She smelled of the same sickness that had claimed the city, underneath the smell of a child who had been forced to take a heavily perfumed bath that same morning. Corvo knew Emily hated those baths, but they were the only way to stem the odor of the plague.

Corvo allowed Emily to pull him towards the gazebo. He waved a greeting to Anton Sokolov and nodded to the High Overseer. He had no wish to stay and chat with them; Sokolov was most likely frustrated and tired, and Campbell would gloat. The Abbey was certain the Rat Plague had been brought to Dunwall by heretics.

_ Maybe it was,  _ Corvo thought as they walked and Emily chattered about what had happened while Corvo had been away.  _ Maybe I was the cause. I’m a heretic, bound to a killer.  _ Corvo wondered whether he would have ended up failing Davy, too, if the stubborn asshole would just have let him try hard enough.

He and Davy had not spoken for almost fourteen years. 

Sometimes Corvo wondered whether the man was dead. Corvo had not opened the link again after he closed it off, back when he had finally given up on the irrational hope. The feelings had stopped bleeding over, there had been no more ghost touches or shared dreams, and gradually Corvo had grown to accept it. There would be a wound inside him, scabbed over and scarring, but he’d live.

He had lived.

Jessamine met him with a tired smile. Corvo watched her face, and underneath the thick layer of makeup he saw she was gray with exhaustion. 

“Corvo,” she said quietly. “You’re back.”

Corvo wanted to take her into his arms. He wanted to escape Dunwall with Jess and Emily, and never return. Nothing good had found him here. He had spent years wanting to hear Jess’ true voice inside his lonely mind, but there was just silence.

Emily saw something on the waterlock roof, and it felt like everything happened simultaneously too quick and in some other reality. The electricity that yanked him into air went through him in a wave of rusty needles. It distorted reality until there was just a blur of blood, Emily’s screams, and horror clawing at Corvo. Time stopped as he watched the blade cut through Jessamine, it stood completely still. Corvo didn’t feel it when he fell, he was only distantly aware of his heart beating with a wild, irregular rhythm. The silence inside his head was broken.

_ No, no, please, no, NO—  _

The man in the red coat turned around, and through the panicked haze Corvo saw the moment when he fell out of his own rhythm. The assassin had been moving to a music only he could hear, but there and then he stumbled. He had not been paying Corvo the slightest bit of attention, not before his gaze dropped to meet his.

He was looking at his thoughtbound.

*

_ Corvo would always remember the night when Emily was born. There was nothing special about the day itself; the Month of Rain was living up to its name and the court had been swamped by an argument about the Dunwall sewer capacity. Corvo remembered watching the newly installed whale oil lamps, how their harsh light bounced off Jess’ sweaty skin as she pushed. _

_ Emily was born healthy and strong. Anton Sokolov had barely picked her up when she started to cry, and both Corvo and Jess looked at her like she was the greatest miracle imaginable. There was a tuft of black hair on her head. _

_ Jess accepted the baby into her arms with a relieved sob. Corvo knew he was supposed to maintain the charade of Lord Protector while there were other people present, but he had most likely blown his cover well and good when he had taken Jess’ hand an hour ago and urged her to push.  _

_ Emily was fussing, but as Jess held her against her bare skin she slowly started to calm down. Corvo looked at her tiny hand as it opened and closed. He had to blink when his vision suddenly blurred. _

_ He had wondered whether loving Jessamine was the right thing to do. He could never give himself to her like he wished to, and he had wondered whether it was fair; maybe Jess could have found love elsewhere. _

_ Jess looked up at him when the attendants left the room. Corvo didn’t hesitate, he slipped onto the bed and held her and Emily close. When he finally dared to extend his hand and stroke the baby’s wispy hair, Jess let out a watery laugh. _

_ “She’s perfect,” Corvo murmured. Emily made a face, but then closed her fingers around Corvo’s pinky. _

_ Jess leaned her head against his. Her long hair was escaping the braid.  _

_ “Our daughter,” she whispered. She inhaled, but when nothing followed Corvo turned to look at her. Jess’ eyes were tired and thoughtful. _

_ “What is it?” he asked. _

_ Jess adjusted Emily where she was nursing. Her eyes were closed. _

_ “Would you tell me about them now?” _

_ Corvo felt a physical lurch of nausea. He knew Jess would feel him grow stiff and immediately wrestle control back. She didn’t say anything, didn’t clarify the question. She didn’t have to. _

_ They had been together for four years. Four good years, during which Jessamine had become empress and Corvo had grown to accept the hand he had been dealt. They had grown up together during that time. Jess had found her voice and footing after the death of Emperor Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin, and Corvo had enjoyed dedicating himself to her. _

_ Corvo had made peace with knowing that their relationship could never be formally acknowledged. He was the Royal Protector, a foreigner, and nowhere even close of noble birth. It felt almost fitting. His soulmate had not wanted him; now he’d found love in a place that prevented them from ever getting married. _

_ Corvo had tried and failed to put Davy out of his mind. Jessamine knew Corvo better than anyone, and he didn’t want to compare her to his soulmate; yet sometimes he did. It broke him down, in the beginning, and Jess managed to coax out enough to know that there had been someone before her. Someone he’d loved more than anything and then lost. Corvo didn’t dare to breathe a word of the thoughtbond to her, but she knew enough. _

_ Jess cupped his cheek and Corvo realized he was crying. His cheeks were wet and his chest was hurting. _

_ “Corvo, shh,” Jess murmured. She wiped the tears away. Corvo wanted to leave, but Emily was still holding his little finger. _

_ “I didn’t know it still hurts you so much,” Jess said. Her eyes were sad but she was smiling.  _

_ Corvo shook his head. He didn’t know what to say. The day had been long and harrowing, and with his defences lowered the barest mention of his lost soulmate was enough to crack him, it seemed. _

_ Emily stopped nursing and made a small, sleepy sound. Jess adjusted her until she was cradled against her. Corvo watched her as she blinked her eyes open. They were unfocused, but she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Whatever else he was feeling at that moment, the strongest was the fierce knowledge that he would walk through fire for this little girl and her mother. _

_ “Our daughter,” Jess said again, with that same sad smile, and finally Corvo understood what she was asking. _

_ “You’re my family,” he said. His voice was rough. “I won’t leave you.” He tightened his arm around Jess and pressed a kiss to her hair. _

_ “I swear I will never leave you.” _

_ Jess looked him in the eye and appeared to find what she had been looking for. She craned her head up to kiss him. There was evident relief in her eyes. _

_ Once again Corvo wondered what Jess’ true voice sounded like. Then he discarded the thought. He might never know Jess’ soul, but he had chosen to stay. He would keep making that choice. _

*

The moment broke like brittle ice. The assassin in the red coat turned on his heel. He grabbed Emily, threw her towards his blue-coated ally, and they vanished. Emily’s cries disappeared, like someone cut them in half, and finally Corvo collapsed. His head was swimming and there was blood in his mouth, iron and salt clogging his throat.

Very slowly, inch by inch, he dragged himself to Jess. His body didn’t want to work, his heart was still beating all wrong. Corvo used the last scraps of his will to shove the mess of terror away from his head. He had to get to Jess. He had failed too many times already.

Jess’ gaze was hazy. Her bloody fingers slipped as she tried to cup Corvo’s cheek.

“They have Emily,” she rasped, blood bubbling between her lips. The thick layer of makeup looked all wrong, like the mask of a corpse.

“Jess,” Corvo gasped. “No, don’t—”

“Find Emily,” Jessamine whispered. Corvo felt the last beats her heart could squeeze out, and then stillness. 

The wind that blew from Wrenhaven smelled of rot and still water. Corvo heard heavy footfalls as the missing guards finally drew close. He didn’t look up as Burrows and Campbell reached him. He looked at Jess.

Jess was dead. Her heart was still, no longer at peace, and there was blood seeping out of her eyes.

*

He wanted to give up.

Burrows had him thrown into Coldridge, into a stone cell with a rat-eaten mattress and pot to piss in. They took away his uniform, his sword. They took away his title, his name, everything. He was just  _ Attano,  _ and even that was spat out like a taunt. It ceased to be his name in less than two weeks.

The first thing that broke him was the pervasive helplessness; Emily had been taken away, and Corvo had no way to reach her. He had no means to defend even himself, not when the guards had guns and batons and electric shots that made him convulse on the damp, filthy floor if he looked at them the wrong way. In the beginning the guards were still afraid of him, but that fear eroded quickly. It was too much.

In those two weeks Corvo’s will finally crumbled. He dreamed of the attack, and there the man was; his thoughtbound. Corvo refused to even think of his name, but there was no escape from the knowledge. His thoughtbound was the leader of the gang of heretics known as Whalers, and he had killed Jessamine.

Hiram Burrows didn’t even bother to join Corvo and the torturer at first. The mute man worked his way through every inch of Corvo, and then had him thrown back into his cell, over and over again. Corvo tried to stop eating, but the guards strapped him down and he almost choked on the gruel they funneled into his mouth. His jaw dislocated, and he had to force it back in place by himself.

The first time Burrows came in was a haze. Corvo remembered the scalding iron pressing against his skin, Burrow’s face swimming through the heat haze, and then he lost himself. Darkness fell, and he ceased to be.

**_Wake up._ **

He didn’t exist anymore. 

**_Wake up._ **

Everything hurt. The stone floor was freezing cold and it was rocking, the whole room was spinning.

**_Please. Mar— Corvo._ **

Corvo opened his eyes. Dizziness made him retch. He didn’t have the strength to even move his head after his stomach was finally empty of whatever scraps he’d been fed.

**_You can’t die now, please._ **

Corvo tried again to move his head away from the sick, but a thunderclap of pain went through his head. He must have made a sound, because the guard passing by his cell banged his baton against the bars. The sound ricocheted through his skull like a bullet.

**_You’re not dead. I’m talking to you._ **

Somehow he managed to roll onto his back. He must have passed out after that.

*

The brand pressed into his back, right next to the previous charred, mutilated bit. Corvo cried out, and the torturer made a pleased hum. He’d been at it for twenty minutes. Corvo knew he was seconds away from going mad. Waiting for the next, inevitable moment of pain was just as bad as the agony itself. It was shredding the last of his sanity.

He knew he’d lose it. His mind would shatter under the strain. After there was just a husk of him left, Burrows would get his confession. Void, they could pin any number of crimes on him, there wouldn’t be enough of Corvo left to protest. After that he’d be hanged publicly, and Emily would grow up thinking Corvo had been a rabid dog. 

**_Tell me about Morley,_ ** came a voice. It slashed across the pain like a shadow blotting out the glare of the sun. It came from inside his head.

Corvo shouted as the brand touched him again, tears and sweat mixing up into a crust of salt around his eyes. 

**_Morley,_ ** the voice repeated.  **_Talk about Morley._ **

Again, again, again. Corvo’s voice gave out, he could only make a pathetic croaking sound. He clawed desperately at the voice, but it kept slipping away. He was breathing too fast, he had known how to talk once; someone had known his voice.

**_Corvo—_ **

_ You don’t get to call me that. _

The torturer stepped away. He looked to be appraising his handiwork, and Corvo took the short moment to blink and breathe. The chamber was rocking like a boat in a storm.

**_Martin._ ** This time the voice was soft and sad.  **_Would you tell me about Morley?_ **

Corvo wanted to cry, this time because he was exhausted. He was breaking, and the only friendly voice was the killer inside his head. The man who had put him here.

He’d considered dying. By his own hand, not whatever public spectacle Burrows had planned for him. It would be messy and painful, but Corvo had been a soldier for a long time. He knew he could do it.

_ It’s cold up there.  _

Corvo paused. He had not meant to answer. The words came sluggishly, like speaking a language he hadn’t used in a long time. As he was stuck marveling at the shape of them, the brand came back, and it sent him spiraling. Suddenly he was shifting through the memories like a half-dead man digging into junk in hopes of finding a morsel of food. 

_ The people are nice though. They have a thick accent. _

**_Like Serkonan folks?_ **

_ No. Morleyan is hard to understand at first. _

**_You’re from Serkonos, Co—Martin. Of course you would understand their talk._ **

_ Fuck you. Anyway. The food’s good. Not as spicy as back home, but they really know how to bake. _

The brand came back, Corvo shouted, and then he kept telling Davy about Morley. With each word Corvo forced out and into the bond, the pain grew more distant.

*

Five months, three weeks, two days. 

Corvo knew he was a shadow of himself. The guard tossed him back into his cell like he weighed nothing, and he barely made it to the threadbare mattress before his knees buckled.

**_What happened?_ **

_ Burrows couldn’t make it today.  _ Corvo swallowed bile.  _ He’ll come tomorrow. Or so they said. He needs that confession. _

Corvo could feel Davy almost holding his breath.

_ I’m not going to give it to him. He’s going to get rid of me after he realizes that. _

**_He’s going to kill you either way, Martin._ **

The name was a comfort. Corvo closed his eyes as Davy began to hum. He couldn’t recognize the song, but the melody was slow and soothing.

Corvo knew that without Davy he would have died months ago. Whenever the torturer was called to lay his hands and tools on Corvo, Davy spoke to him, made Corvo tell stories about his travels around the Isles. Anecdotes, people he’d met, food he’d eaten, weather, anything. Davy’s voice was a path deep inside his head where he couldn’t feel all of the pain.

It was a comfort. Escape. Coming back to his reality was a shock, but even that was numbing by now. Corvo’s body was becoming foreign to him. Soon there would be nothing in him that had been touched without the intention to hurt. All of Jess’ gentle touches had been erased, every hug Emily had given him was gone.

Corvo had forgotten Jess’ voice. Her face was fading, and on bad days Corvo could only remember her as she had been at the gazebo. He tried not to think about the blood he’d seen seeping from her eyes, because considering what it meant was too heavy. It would break him.

_ Davy? _

**_You know that’s not my real name._ ** He sounded sad, like everytime Corvo spoke to him outside the torture sessions.

_ Whatever. It’s the only name you’ve given me, so I’m going to keep using it.  _

There was the faintest brush of fingertips down his forearm, but it vanished quickly. Davy didn’t touch him. He just talked.

_ Why are you here? _

**_In Dunwall? I have work I need to finish._ **

Corvo wanted to roll his eyes, but the headache pounding behind his temples made him refrain. 

_ Stop playing stupid. Inside my head. _

Davy stayed quiet. There was always something enormous trashing at his end of the bond, but he kept it locked away. It was just a vast shadow at the edge of Corvo’s mind.

_ You left so many times. You never once talked to me before— Before. Why now? _

Corvo closed his eyes as he waited. Something was reminding him of the sea, almost as if he wasn’t lying in his cell; he was in the water, and the waves were tugging him deeper.

_ Davy. Tell me. You came back after we saw each other. Why? _

**_You’re not going to like anything I have for an answer._ **

_ I’m going to be dead in a week or so. Humor me. _

Deeper and deeper. Corvo could taste the salty water. They were being watched.

**_I don’t want you to die._ **

And then the lock broke. Corvo felt Davy’s regret slam into him, and at its heels came longing, loneliness, and something that burned so bright Corvo couldn’t look at it. It was entirely too big to comprehend, and something inside Corvo coiled tight in recognition— 

It was all gone in a second, and Corvo felt as Davy tried to pull away, tried to hide it again.

_ Wait! Wait. _

The frantic retreat stopped, but just barely.

_ I don’t want to die. But I’m so fucking tired. _

The water receded, and Corvo was once more in his cold cell where the lights never went out. He wanted to curse and scream. His stubborn, proud, cruel soulmate; the ambitions of greedy men; anything and everything. He didn’t have the strength for any of it, so he settled into the bond and knew he wasn’t the only one who was exhausted and alone.

**_I’m so sorry. Saying it doesn’t change anything, but I’m sorry._ **

_ Would you be sorry if I wasn’t your soulmate? _

Corvo wanted to cry, but he had no energy for it. Besides, he could feel the ghost of tears as they ran down someone else’s cheeks.

**_You won’t believe this, but yes. I’d take it all back if I could._ **

Corvo nodded. It didn’t change anything. He was alive for the time being because Davy was regretting what he’d done, and that was all this amounted to. That was all he could allow himself to believe. If he waded deeper in, the last bit that was still  _ him  _ would be broken.

Corvo slept. Like most nights, he dreamed of Jessamine. The nightmare crossed the border of reality and showed her weeping blood and moaning in pain, and when Corvo whacked his head against the cell wall with his thrashing the bond rushed in; full darkness followed and chased away the fragments.

*

What truly saved Corvo from the prison wasn’t the key left to him, nor the special weapons and elixirs; it was the careful smile of Samuel the Boatman. Corvo stepped out of the sewers, blade trailing blood after him, and he was just about ready to raise it again when Samuel lifted his hand and smiled. It wasn’t pity or fear; just the expression of a man who had seen his share of cruelty, and who knew how it felt when you get driven to the end of your reason.

Corvo lowered the blade, dropped into the barge, and then vomited out everything he’d eaten in the past day. Samuel’s hand came to rest on his back, and when Corvo’s chest began to heave with sobs it smoothed over his spine. Slow and gentle, holding him in one piece.

Corvo knew he looked like a ghost. His voice was barely there when he told Samuel that he was alright, that they should go before the prison guards found them. Samuel smiled at him and tossed him his hip flask before starting the motor, and Corvo felt the whiskey burn through him like the first real thing in half a year.

**_You’re out._ **

Corvo didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and breathed in the wet air. It was raining, a miserable drizzle that made his shiver. Without a word, Samuel shrugged off his coat and tossed it to Corvo, who was too tired to argue. He wrapped himself into the worn leather and breathed in the smells.

**_Are you safe?_ **

He didn’t answer.

*

Corvo slept. He’d locked both doors leading into his attic room, and when he finally fell asleep he sank into something dark and cold. For a moment he thought his heart had finally given up and failed, but then he was standing on a rocky ledge. Around him was the same deep nothing he’d been seeing in his dreams since childhood.

“It would be such a waste if you died now,” came the answer to his unasked question. Corvo turned around and met the eyes he’d felt watching him through the years. It was almost a relief to know that someone  _ had _ been watching, even though the observer didn’t look like the monster the Abbey described him as.

The Outsider peered at him with a faint smile. “So now you’re free, dear Corvo. What a turn your life has taken.”

Corvo wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. For some reason he felt almost safe here.

“It says something that you’d think I was safer than the people around you.” The Outsider looked amused, taking a few disjointed steps closer. Corvo glared at the god. He didn’t want—need—reminders that he was not free. Not truly.

“You’re the Outsider.” His voice sounded off, flat like the Void was sucking away his colors. The Outsider seemed unable to stay completely still, but it wasn’t human fidgeting; rather it felt like his being was constantly breaking and reforming.

“Yes.” The Outsider looked like a young man, but Corvo could feel it was just a paper-thin cover; what was underneath was ancient and uncaring. “You have questions.”

Corvo took a step back. In the tales, the Outsider was always described as capricious. He made demands and took what he wanted.

“Not all of the old stories are true, my dear,” the Outsider chided. He smiled, and somehow it looked mischievous. “Your empress believed in the old stories, when she was young. Your daughter does, too.”

“Was she sick?” Corvo asked before he could think. The pain was immediate and almost made him double over. He had thought about Jess so much while he had been in Coldridge. The possibility of her sickness still turned his stomach. 

_ Blood from the eyes! _ The graffiti scrawled across the walls. Corvo fought back nausea as he thought about it but he was losing. The Void around him was disintegrating, flecks of light peeling off as his pulse drowned out all sensible thoughts.

“Do you wish to know?” The Outsider floated closer. He reached for Corvo’s hand and delicately played with his fingers. His touch was cool. It felt like dipping your hand into the sea when you couldn’t see the shore. “Wouldn’t it be better to believe it was just a trick of the light?”

“No.” Corvo took a deep breath. He closed his eyes when tears started prickling. “I have to know.”

“Then yes.”

Corvo opened his eyes. The Outsider dropped his hand. 

“She was sick. She had been hiding it. More makeup, more perfumes, only a few trusted servants permitted to bathe and dress her. All of them are dead now.”

Corvo wanted to tell the Outsider there must have been a mistake but his voice was gone. Water was rushing around him, like the tide coming in, and he didn’t know how to swim. He would drown, drown like the Rudshore District, like whole city—

The Outsider cupped his cheek, and in a flash his mind cleared.

“You’re not ready to know that.” 

Corvo’s chest was heaving. His head swam, and he fought to focus on the cold fingers touching his face.

The Outsider smiled again. The otter-black eyes grew curious. “You are one of the few bound ones I’ve met. Tell me, Corvo, how does that connection treat you?”

He should have known. The second Corvo had seen his soulmate vanish into thin air, he should have fucking known there was yet another messed up thing in the massive tangle that was him and Davy.

“Was this your plan?” Corvo asked. His voice broke. “Did you bind me to him, just to watch us both break?”

The Outsider swirled away, and then Corvo felt him at his back. He didn’t turn around. A cool hand ran through his hair.

“Those are not mine to forge or break,” the Leviathan murmured. Without thinking, Corvo leaned into the touch. “You and Daud have been bound together from the second your souls have existed.”

_ Daud.  _ Corvo had never heard his name spoken aloud like it was a precious thing. The Outsider pronounced it differently, too, a subtle shift creating a second syllable that Corvo felt more than heard. At the court, before the world ended, the name had always been uttered with fear and loathing.

“There are so few universes where you two never meet. Those ones collapse before reaching any sort of ending.”

“Why?” Corvo noticed he’d spoken aloud. “Why did you mark him?”

“Daud was interesting.” Again, the Outsider moved, and this time he appeared sitting on thin air. He was no longer smiling. “So few who have a soulmate fight so hard against that connection.  _ Choose  _ to do so.”

“That’s what made him special?” Corvo wanted to laugh. “He made both of us fucking miserable and then ruined my life.”

“No, Daud was interesting for other reasons too, but only for a spell. I left him alone when I grew bored, and it suited him just fine. After he killed the empress and accidentally found you, something broke inside him.”

“Inside  _ him _ ?” Now Corvo did laugh. It was an ugly, bitter sound. “Well, sucks for him, but he’s not the only one.” The last wounds he’d received in Coldridge were still healing, their twinge present even in the Void.

The Outsider nodded. “You locked him out after he finally managed to convince you it was useless to keep hoping. He almost grew to accept that, yet one look at your face made that resolve crumble to dust.”

Corvo shuddered as he remembered the last night in his cell. He flinched away from the memory of that bright light, certain that it would burn him to cinders.

“Something broke,” the Outsider said in a low voice as if he, too, was puzzled. “And now it refuses to be contained any longer. It is slipping through the cracks, eroding solid ground, like a tide coming in.”

Corvo didn’t want to listen to the god anymore.

“Your trials will be great, Corvo.” The Outsider’s voice cleared, and Corvo dared to look at him again. “You have been hurt and beaten, dishonored and cast aside. You were meant to die humiliated, yet now you are out of the prison that almost took your life.”

The Outsider’s smile was greedy and sweet, like a predator trying to gentle its prey before the final strike.

“Let’s see if we can do better. I will give you my mark, Corvo. Consider it a gift. Your life almost ended because of Daud, and then he saved you. I look forward to seeing what you will do next.”

The brand burned like fire. Corvo watched it form with disbelief, but before he managed to ask anything, he was falling away, and real sleep engulfed him.

*

The first time Corvo blinked from one place to another in the real world, he almost fell off a roof. He bloodied his knuckles as he scrambled to keep his balance, but the fear of falling was buried under the rush of joy and wonder. Corvo crouched down to pant as he tried to wrap his head around the adrenaline-fueled delight. It felt bracing after so long in the dark. The Void had retreated to the back of his head; it felt like a fever dream, cracking and peeling when he tried to reach it. Corvo knew he had forgotten something, but he didn’t have the time to dig it out.

Getting to Holger Square took a long time, and Corvo used that to test what he could do with the mark. He was already a heretic, and now he was a wanted criminal as well; what was one more transgression? If there was some traces of delight to be found in the Mark, Corvo was ready to embrace them.

_ Davy? _

Corvo stood at the top of the highest building on the street that would take him into the belly of the beast. The sun was dipping towards the wester horizon, and for once the stink of the river wasn’t overwhelming. It had gotten so much worse in six months.

**_So he found you. The black-eyed bastard._ **

_ That time you almost fell off the Kaldwin’s Bridge. Was that when he marked you? _

A very tired chuckle.  **_Yeah. He broke into our world and then yanked me into the Void when I almost fell to my death._ **

Corvo managed a weak smile behind the mask. 

_ He said… That he wasn’t the one to bind us together. _

**_I asked about that too._ **

Corvo crouched low and watched the guards and the Overseers do their rounds below him. He didn’t know what was waiting for him at the Abbey building.

**_Who got you out of Coldridge?_ **

_ People who don’t like Burrows. None of your concern. _

A stumble. Corvo got the impression that Davy—no, Daud had stopped. 

**_What are they making you do?_ **

Corvo didn’t answer. He didn’t have an answer, not one he wanted to give Daud anyway. He didn’t like killing, but to get Emily back he was ready to do nearly anything. Jess had called him gentle, but Coldridge had stripped away his compassion for strangers. It would have worried him, in the past.

**_Are they using you?_ **

Corvo wanted to hit something.

_ Everyone uses me. That’s basically my life’s story. _

There was a prickle at the back of his left hand. Corvo guessed Daud must have used his powers. The silence stretched. When Corvo focused on the bond, he could feel an echo of Daud’s heartbeat. It was far too quick. Without thinking, Corvo probed at the connection; he wanted answers, but the second he pulled closer there was a violent shudder from Daud. 

That burning was everywhere. It wasn’t hot or cold, but it was so bright; sunlight like spears, piercing the water as it closed in over his head.

**_I was coming for you._ **

For a second, Corvo forgot to breathe.

**_I was going to get you out of Coldridge._ ** There was that faint tremble in Daud’s voice again.  **_But I was too late._ **

_ Why? _

Corvo was feeling very helpless all of a sudden.

**_What— Of course I was coming for you._ **

Well, at least Corvo wasn’t the only one who was fucking lost.

_ Well, pardon me for being slow, but how was I supposed to know? _

**_I told you I didn’t want you to die._ **

Corvo groaned and yanked the mask off to rub his eyes.  _ What the fuck, Daud! If you didn’t want me dead, why’d you put me inside? _

An uneasy silence followed. Corvo realized he’d called his soulmate by his real name for the first time, but it was just a side note. His chest was feeling like it was full of angry barbs.

**_You were early. You weren’t supposed to be there when I— When I killed the empress._ **

Corvo closed his eyes and breathed in. Out.

_ Burrows hired you. _

**_That’s one way to— Yes. He did._ **

In. Out. Now was not the time to cry.

_ I can’t deal with this right now. I have something I need to do. _

**_Wait!_ **

Corvo pulled the mask back in its place and zoomed the lense. The Overseer in charge of watching the gatehouse was talking with a City Watch officer. They were laughing. It was now or never.

**_Wait! Are they making you kill someone? Please think about this before—_ **

_ Goodbye, Daud. _

*

Later, much later Corvo was scrubbing the sweat and blood away. He was thinking about the Heart and how it whispered secrets about places and people. The first time Corvo had heard the voice he’d had to stop because the tears he couldn’t shed at Coldridge had come unbidden. 

He missed Jessamine so much. Corvo kept looking for her, because having Jess out of his sight had signaled imminent danger in the past. His heart would lurch with alarm before he remembered, and then the hurt would well up until it choked him. He’d had one place where he was happy, and now that solid ground had crumbled from underneath.

Jess had not been Corvo’s soulmate, but she had loved him. She had chosen Corvo, first as her protector, then as her lover, and then for many years as her confidante as the passion cooled into a slow simmer. It had never truly died, but towards the end Jess had been Corvo’s best friend more than his lover. Jess had been the person who tied Corvo into this world, because without his soulmate he’d felt like he was fading.

Hearing her voice was a punch in the gut, every time. Corvo had dreamed of Jess being his soulmate, of hearing her voice inside his head instead of Daud’s. Now he had it, but only as an echo, something lingering because it had no choice. That more than anything made Corvo remember Jess was dead.

The Abbey building had been a cacophony of pain and rage, but one line kept returning to Corvo.

_ Where have the overseers gone? They wade through chest-high waters with their hounds. _

It didn’t tell him anything, apart from the fact that Havelock had chosen a good night for Corvo to infiltrate the offices and deal with Campbell. But it refused to leave, rankling at the edge of his attention.

Corvo thought about Teague Martin, the Overseer who was surely making his way to the Hound Pits right now. Corvo thought of how they shared a name, in a way. The name Corvo had offered to Daud all those years ago had been his, but now it was fading. He no longer felt young and carefree, so maybe it was all the same to assume the role of his gloomy namesake of a bird.

He was wrenched out of his thoughts when the bond shuddered. Corvo had not been paying it any attention, but now he noticed it had been almost locked down. The blocked off stream was boiling over, reaching a breaking point as Corvo felt around it.

_ Daud? _

A flash: Corvo saw a lithe, black woman in a red coat. She peeled off a whaler’s mask as she faced who Corvo presumed was Daud. Then the vision was gone, but it left Corvo reeling. There had never been such strong impressions before.

_ Who is she? _

A shuddering breath.  **_No one. Not anymore._ **

_ You killed her. _

**_No!_ **

Corvo waited, but nothing followed. The water in the tub was growing cold, and he stepped out and started to dry himself off.

**_Martin._ **

Corvo heaved a tired sigh. He didn’t want to be called by that name any longer, he knew that now, after meeting Teague Martin.

_ You might as well use my real name, Daud. The days when we could be Martin and Davy are as good as gone. _

**_The people you’re working with,_ ** Daud pressed on, not commenting on Corvo’s moody remark,  **_what do they want you to do?_ **

_ How is that any business of yours? _

**_I want to help you._ **

Corvo barked a bitter laugh.  _ A bit late for that. _

**_I was going to get you out. Help you find the princess. I know you have no reason to trust me, but—_ **

_ You’re damn right, I don’t. I won’t gamble with Emily’s life, not with  _ you. The memory of Emily’s fear right before the assassins took her away was branded in Corvo’s mind.

**_I had—_ ** Daud took a deep breath. The bond was simmering with the same helpless rage that had alerted Corvo a moment ago.  **_I had an Emily. Burrows threatened that._ **

Corvo thought back to the woman he’d seen, the mask dangling from her hand and Daud’s sword pointing at her. She hadn’t looked much older than twenty.

**_I don’t have her anymore._ **

The towel slipped from Corvo suddenly nerveless fingers. His breath felt too loud in the tiny bathroom, bouncing off the walls as he tried to understand what Daud was saying. 

He’d said he hadn’t killed the girl. Corvo closed his eyes as vertigo rocked the floor and gripped the splintered edge of the bathtub. Why was she gone, then?

Daud didn’t say anything more, and gradually the worst of the disarrayed sorrow retreated. Corvo wrapped the towel around his hips and gathered his weapons and clothes under his arm. He listened carefully, and when he concluded that the building was quiet he snuck upstairs. He knew he couldn’t avoid Daud. He was coming to notice that blocking his soulmate out didn’t work anymore.

**_You could leave them. Come find me. I’ll help you. No one has anything on me anymore._ **

Corvo dumped his gear on the floor. He was angry again, but it was an exhausted sort of anger.

_ You don’t get to make demands. Your loss doesn’t repay for mine. Whether you regret it or not, you killed the empress, who just happened to be the woman I loved, the mother of Emily. You took everything from me, twice. _

There was a muted flicker of older pain. Suddenly Corvo remembered the moment when he’d closed the bond. In that moment his own hurt had ruled over everything else, but now Daud’s was flowing into him. It was ink black, blotting out light.

**_You shut me out, too._ ** The words slipped out, seemingly without much say from Daud. The bond was shaking with suppressed feelings again.  **_Do you think that didn’t hurt?_ **

Corvo knew he was pacing the floor, gritting his teeth and blinking back a haze of tears he didn’t want to acknowledge. His heart was beating too fast.

_ You didn’t want me. _

**_I thought I could live without you, but then you fell in love with someone else and—_ **

_ Because you didn’t want me!  _ Without thinking, Corvo grabbed a chair and hurled it at the wall as hard as he could. The dull crash was eaten up by the damp walls.  _ You didn’t want me!  _ Corvo stared at the dust floating in the cool air with unseeing eyes.

**_I’ve always wanted you,_ ** Daud whispered. It came through the bond so quietly that Corvo almost missed it. Just like before, he didn’t know what to do with the admission. It wormed its way at his core, sitting there like a bullet cocooned into his flesh.

Corvo walked back to his bed and sank down. The mattress was thin and lumpy, but he hardly felt it. 

_ Then why, Daud? Why didn’t you come find me?  _ Corvo registered the pleading note in his voice, but he was beyond caring. He’d been eaten by the uncertainty almost all his life. Why didn’t his soulmate want him? Why had he left Corvo alone?

There was another shudder in the bond, like a muffled sob. 

**_Remember how you felt when you were sent to Dunwall?_ **

Corvo frowned.  _ What’s that got to do with— _

**_You were pissed off that you never got to choose._ **

He still didn’t understand, but Corvo got the distinct feeling that Daud was just as tired as he was. 

**_People took away my choices. The Outsider didn’t ask if I wanted the brand._ **

Corvo buried his face into his hands. There was too much rage coiling around Daud’s words. It felt volatile, like everything would explode if Corvo went poking around. He didn’t have the energy to address the words, even as they sparked understanding.

_ Fine.  _ Corvo sighed. His breath was warm against his fingers.  _ But you still took away my future. We could have found a way to cure the Plague. Jess and I still had a future. _

There was a ringing silence. Corvo opened his eyes when he felt it, because now there was something new present. Gooseflesh erupted all over him. 

**_You didn’t know. About the empress._ ** Daud sounded...scared?

Corvo was feeling unreasonably shaky. He didn’t really see the room around him as he blinked furiously. Suddenly he thought of the dream again. The Outsider, touching him like he was soothing a hurt, murmuring something.

_ Didn’t know what? _

The silence dragged on, and Corvo was just about ready to don his filthy coat and find Daud, punch the answers out of him when…

**_She had the plague._ **

_ “All of them are dead now.” _

His head swam. The room was rocking, like a boat at sea, and some kind of a monster was lurking just underneath. Maybe it would just swallow him whole. He would drown.

**_Burrows knew. He had been spreading the rumor ever since you left. I believe his intention was to have her die of it, but Sokolov kept her alive much longer than planned, and then—_ **

_ Burrows got you to finish the job.  _

It came out flat, completely devoid of any emotion. The rocking stopped. For some reason Corvo was certain the Outsider was listening to their conversation.

The blood seeping from Jessamine’s eyes. The heavy cover of makeup. The strong perfume. Jessamine had stopped playing with Emily a month or so before Corvo left to tour the Isles and beg for help. She had not kissed him when he’d left. 

How had he managed to miss the signs?

There was a warmth against his bare shoulder, like a hand was hovering there.

**_Billie had her whole life left, and Burrows was threatening to have her killed. I told myself it was worth whatever the empress had left. And I swear to whatever god you pray to that I didn’t know you were the empress’ bodyguard._ **

The hand hovering brushed against his skin and then withdrew.  **_I’m so sorry. I thought you knew._ **

_ She was weeping blood already.  _ Corvo felt the tears as they started to fall.  _ But she was coherent. How is that possible?  _

**_I don’t know. Sokolov’s doing, most likely._ **

_ And Emily? Is she sick too? _

**_As far as I know, no. Burrows wanted her alive._ **

_ Did Burrows infect her? Jessamine. _

**_I don’t know for certain, but the rumor is that she contracted it from the Tower staff._ **

Jess. Always ready to have a kind word with servants and guards. Always making sure the people working for her were cared for. Corvo collapsed into the bed and dragged the duvet over himself. He was suddenly very cold. He wondered why it felt like he had just lost Jess again.

Why had she not told Corvo she was sick?

**_Corvo. Please don’t stay with those people._ **

_ I don’t have a choice.  _ Corvo closed his eyes. He didn’t feel like turning off the light.  _ I have Campbell’s black book, and we need to find where they’re keeping Emily. _

**_Did you kill Campbell?_ **

Corvo huffed a humorless laugh. He thought about the stench of burning flesh, how it still clogged his nostrils. Campbell had been afraid of him and oh, but it had felt good to brand him. Both of them knew what would happen afterwards, and Corvo had smiled behind the mask as he dug the brand deeper than was necessary.

_ As good as. _

For some reason, Corvo thought about the woman he’d seen through Daud’s eyes. Billie, Daud had called her. She’d been wearing a red assassin’s coat like Daud, and unlike the other Whalers.

Had Billie been Daud’s second in command? It was the likely explanation, but it didn’t cover everything Corvo had felt in that flash. There had been so much helpless anger and biting sorrow. And Daud had said Billie was gone now, so what had happened?

Corvo tried to find words to ask, but he was so tired. He just wanted to sleep.

*

Corvo knew of the Golden Cat. It was one of  _ those places; _ too important for spies to have a crack down on, but too shady for Corvo himself to ever step foot inside. Before today, that is.

Corvo was deep in thought, sitting at the back of Samuel’s boat, when he felt the hesitant nudge.

**_You know where Emily is._ **

_ Yeah. The Golden Cat, of all places.  _ Corvo had been mulling over whether he would tell Daud, but what did he have to lose? Maybe Daud could help, even if Corvo didn’t seek him out.

Daud gave a thoughtful hum.  **_Is that so? Burrows cut me out of the loop the second I delivered the girl to his vassals. What are you going to do?_ **

_ Kill the guys holding her. Get her back safe.  _

**_Are you sure it’s the best way to deal with this?_ **

Corvo bristled. He hadn’t yet donned the mask, and he noticed Samuel glancing at him. 

_ Listen, Daud. I don’t want your advice. I have to save my daughter. The Loyalists have helped me much more than you ever did—  _

**That’s** **_what they call themselves? The Loyalists? Is that weasel Treavor Pendleton part of that troupe?_ **

_ What?  _ Corvo asked. He blinked rapidly. How could Daud know?

There was the feeling of an exhausted sigh.  **_You said you’re going to kill the guys holding Emily. Everyone knows the Pendleton twins practically run the Golden Cat nowadays. And some people with eyes and ears in the court know the youngest of the three brothers resents his low status in his family._ **

_ Some people. Like you. _

**_Like me._ ** Daud muttered a curse under his breath.  **_I put off investigating the twins. They were too close to Burrows and their own networks are big enough to be a problem. Burrows would have started raining fire on us a lot sooner if he knew I was working against him._ **

Corvo was about to answer, but suddenly the boat motor went silent, and then Samuel wrapped his calloused hand around Corvo’s wrist.

“You’re talking to someone. Inside your head.”

Corvo froze. He stared at the old man, but Samuel didn’t look scared or judgemental. There was a faint frown on his face.

“You’re bound to someone, right?”

**_Corvo? What’s happening?_ **

“What?” Corvo croaked.

Samuel didn’t let go. “I noticed your gaze goes vacant every now and then, but I wasn’t sure before now. You’re thoughtbound to someone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He had always been a pathetic liar. Distantly Corvo wondered if that was the reason the Loyalists had asked Piero to craft him the mask.

Samuel chuckled as he sat back and let Corvo go. “I had one too. I know how it is. And I’m not gonna tell anyone, just wanted to let you know I could see it.”

**_Corvo!_ **

_ Shut up Daud, this isn’t about you. _

“See, like that?” Samuel pointed out with a smile. “They’re arguing with you about something, right?”

“Yeah,” Corvo finally groaned, deciding to throw caution to the wind. “Stupid asshole.” 

Maybe it was unwise to trust Samuel, but Corvo needed someone who was truly on his side. He just wanted some semblance of normalcy to return. 

Samuel laughed. “People don’t believe in soulmates here in Gristol, so they’re not common.”

Corvo shrugged. He hadn’t thought of Daud as his soulmate in ages. Right now it just felt like he was tied together with an insufferable bastard who didn’t want to leave him alone. Corvo looked up.

“You said you had one?”

Samuel’s smile fell and he looked at his hands. He nodded, once.

“Had.”

Corvo thought about the Heart and its whispers. He didn’t say anything, but he thought he understood. He had seen what had become of his mother after she lost her soulmate; there was a similar gray heaviness to Samuel, clinging to every step he took and hiding at the edges of his smiles.

Corvo felt a creeping dread; what if Daud died? How could he survive that? It didn’t make any sense, because at the same time Corvo hated the man. And yet, the connection they shared had kept him alive in Coldridge.

**_What’s wrong?_ **

Corvo wondered what it would be like to have a soulmate who loved you. Someone who would choose you every time, who didn’t want to run away or hide. Someone Corvo could have loved back without feeling like he was betraying himself and everything he had ever stood for. 

**_Corvo, I…_ **

Daud didn’t continue, and Corvo guessed he’d let some of his turmoil seep through. He cleared his throat and pulled his emotions inwards, until his head felt a little clearer. 

The day was uncharacteristically bright, and the wind was coming from the sea. Corvo looked at the city lining the banks of Wrenhaven, high enough so he didn’t have to see the bloated corpses floating in the murky water.

**_I’ve always loved the sea._ ** Daud’s voice was quiet and soft.  **_I always thought that when my time comes, I’d take a skiff and just sail out. Go so far from the shore that there is nothing left, just open water._ **

_ I know someone who’d be delighted if you drowned yourself.  _ Corvo tried to make the words hurt, but they came out weary. Even a little amused. Daud’s choice of the fake name all those years ago suddenly made a lot more sense.

Daud groaned.  **_Forget the fucking Leviathan, Corvo. I’m not talking about him. I’d just like to float for a while. Listen to the wind and the whales. Look at the stars._ **

Corvo looked towards the sea. Sunlight was bouncing off the waves like glittery birds. For a while he couldn’t tell where the sky met the horizon.

_ Yeah, I guess that would be nice. _

*

Corvo got the uncanny feeling that someone was following him as soon as he parted ways with Samuel. He didn’t look around as he snuck past the watchtowers on Clavering, blinking from roof to roof. There were more watchmen than before, and Corvo tried to think how in the Void he was going to sneak past them with Emily in tow.

He landed on a rooftop near the main entrance to the bath house, and then he waited. He felt the eyes of his follower on his back, but he didn’t turn around. Then there was the unmistakable  _ pop  _ of a blink, and Corvo’s left hand tingled. His stomach dropped. 

He’d suspected Daud was following him, but now his resolve was draining away. He hadn’t truly thought the assassin would approach him. Void, Corvo had honestly thought Daud wouldn’t risk coming close to the Cat, not after what he’d said about the Pendletons.

“Corvo.”

Daud didn’t come any closer. Corvo didn’t turn around. He knew he should feel exposed standing with his back to an assassin, the fucking Knife of Dunwall. Instead he just wanted to fall backwards. Hope that Daud would catch him.

“Listen to me.” Daud’s voice was rough and surprisingly warm. Corvo heard him step closer, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He whirled around, one hand on his blade. 

Through the mask lenses everything looked dull and tinged with blue, but Daud’s red coat was like an exclamation mark. They stared at each other, and then Corvo reached up shaky fingers and peeled the mask off. 

Daud blinked and took half a step back when Corvo let the mask fall onto the roof. The silence was deafening, and even the groaning of the rotating watchtower was drowned out by the rushing in Corvo’s head.

Daud’s hair was dark, with silver creeping in at his temples. His skin was a shade or two lighter than Corvo’s. The jagged scar that cut across his face looked like it had almost cost Daud his right eye. And behind all this Corvo felt the chaotic rush of emotions, a massive tangle of dread, elation and longing. Tide coming in, pulled back by gravity; crushing weight of waves, cold unfathomable depths… 

The Heart pulsed.

_ “This is the man who killed me.” _

Daud’s stony expression cracked. He looked around, alarmed, but Corvo hardly noticed. There was another throb, this one stronger.

_ “I didn’t tell you I was dying. I thought I would be gone before you came back.” _

Corvo’s vision grew gray. Daud turned back to him, opened his mouth to ask something but Corvo couldn’t hear anything. The bond was swirling like a melody, wrapping around them. Rushing waves, stars so far above they might as well not exist, and saltwater in his lungs.

_ “Fate makes fools of us all. I thought you'd see the empress die of weeping. Instead, a knife. Which is the more painful, and for whom?” _

_ How can you say that? _ Corvo thought.  _ He took you away from me. _

_ “This is the one you have been longing for.” _

**_Corvo—_ **

_ “This man is the one who knows your true voice. I used to be sad I could never have all of you.” _

_ Jess.  _ Corvo blinked away tears. His hands were shaking.

_ “But now I’m almost glad.” _

The Heart went quiet, and the sounds and sensations of the real world returned so abruptly both Corvo and Daud flinched. Corvo had to close his eyes for a second to avoid being sick, and he heard Daud take several deep breaths.

**_Corvo, what was that?_ **

Corvo shook his head. His ears were ringing, and he knew he’d fail the job if he stopped to think about this now.

_ I can’t. I can’t talk about it. Not now. _

When Corvo opened his eyes, Daud was looking at him with a pained frown. Corvo didn’t have to probe at him to know Daud had recognized the ghostly voice.

Corvo exhaled shakily. He took a better look at Daud, and noticed the dark circles around his eyes and how tense he looked. Seeing him in reality was throwing Corvo off-balance. He had never tried to imagine what his soulmate looked like. It sounded strange, but Corvo had never felt the need. He knew what Daud’s spirit felt like, and that had been enough. 

And now Corvo was here, standing on a rooftop and staring at Daud who looked like he wanted to run.

“What do you want?” Corvo asked. 

Daud blinked. Corvo felt him force the feelings back, but it was mostly for show; Corvo himself felt about three seconds away from either crying or laughing.

His soulmate. In the flesh, after all these years.

“The Pendleton brothers had some new security measures put up,” Daud finally said. He cleared his throat and finally looked away. “Thought you should know.”

It would have been too easy to just listen to Daud’s voice, Corvo thought. Hearing it inside his head was a comfort, but like this the rough drawl made all tension drain out of his body.

“Such as?”

“I didn’t have time to check yet,” Daud said. He nodded towards the entrance. “But you can bet that if both of them are in tonight, the security’s gonna be tight.”

“Nothing new there.”

**_Let me help, you stubborn idiot._ **

Corvo ignored the plea. He picked up the mask, but as he was about to put it back on, a big hand wrapped around his wrist. Unlike him, Daud was wearing gloves, but it was the first time they had ever touched each other. It went through Corvo like lightning, and he heard Daud draw in a breath.

_ I could just drown,  _ Corvo thought, distantly,  _ and never surface.  _ For a split second he knew he was as safe as he was ever going to be. Then Daud dropped the contact. Corvo saw redness creeping up his neck.

“There might be a way to deal with them,” Daud said with a cough. “The Pendletons.”

“How?”

Daud gave him a wry smile. “I’m not the only guy running a gang in this city. There are a few others who have a bone to pick with the Pendletons. I could call in a favor.”

Corvo looked at Daud suspiciously. He didn’t balk at the idea of slitting the throats of the twins, but he had to admit he was  _ curious _ . 

Daud knew Corvo had taken the bait, even without the connection they shared. His eyes narrowed as a cold smile spread across his face.

“Let me deal with them. That’ll give you more time to find where they stashed Emily.”

He said it quietly, but a shiver ran down Corvo’s spine. He never truly forgot that Daud was the most feared assassin in Dunwall, but it was hard to see the whole picture; in his core, Corvo knew Daud would never harm him. He didn’t know how he could be so sure of that, and he quickly chalked it up to one more quirk of the telepathic bond they shared.

Corvo pushed the mask back on his face and then nodded.

_ Fine. But I’m going to need proof they’ve been dealt with.  _

Daud smiled again. This time it was a small, tired thing.

**_Let me do what I do best._ **

Daud was gone in a flurry of ash and the tell-tale  _ pop  _ of vacuum, and Corvo turned towards the main entrance.

The bath house was huge, and much more complex in layout than he’d expected. Corvo knew he was being overly cautious as he crept along the ledges and heavy, hanging lights, but he wanted to be sure he wasn’t spotted this time. At the Overseer offices he’d had to knock out five and kill two more, just because he had not been quick enough to vanish into shadows. 

The brothel was opulent, all rich tapestries and incense smoke. Locating the Pendleton twins was easier than he expected, but he saw they were heavily guarded; Daud’s hunch had been right. Corvo spent a few moments mulling over his options, trying to decide whether he could trust Daud, but then something caught his eye.

There was someone outside the windows of the Ivory Room. They were only a dark smudge, but Corvo’s hair stood on edge when he saw the dull glint. For a second he was transported back to the gazebo, looking into the opaque lenses of a whaler’s mask again.

The Whaler stopped and turned to look straight at Corvo, who crouched lower. He watched as the assassin saluted him, and then they were gone. Corvo watched the ash float away in the breeze, and then quickly zoomed the lens of his mask towards the room. The audio enhancement picked up a few muffled words, a female voice yelping. Then nothing.

A few seconds later Corvo saw the Whaler appear again, this time with a body slung over their shoulder. They didn’t look at Corvo as they blinked onto the windowsill, and the next second they were gone.

Corvo swallowed. Things were moving. He couldn’t turn back now. Daud was extracting the Pendletons already, which meant that sooner or later the guards would notice something was amiss. He had to find Emily.

Corvo turned on his heel and blinked back where he’d seen the madame. Sneaking past the few drunken patrons was easy, and in the office he finally found a solid clue. There was a note in the ledger, some vague notion about keeping one room upstairs off-limits to the guests. Corvo glanced at the unconscious woman and fought against the rush of anger.

It would be so easy to kill Madame Prudence. No one would miss her, and her death would throw the entire brothel into chaos for a while. 

**_What’s wrong?_ **

Corvo sighed and turned away. He was slowly getting more and more attuned to Daud’s moods now that the connection was open, but unfortunately it meant that the assassin could feel his emotions, too.

_ Nothing. I think I found her. _

**_The Pendletons are both out of the game. No one saw my people take them, but you don’t have a lot of time. Get moving._ **

Corvo didn’t bother answering. He snatched the skeleton key from the madame’s belt, and locked the room from the outside. 

The upstairs was empty when he crept towards the corridor. There were only three rooms, two with doors ajar. The floor was covered in dust, and Corvo wondered what the use of warning people away had been; this part of the building looked like it hadn’t been used at all lately. There were tracks in the dust, going to the room in the middle.

The door was locked. Corvo took a few seconds to measure it. It was solid wood, and the lock was heavy. The knowledge that Emily was just a few feet away from him made Corvo ache. He unfolded his blade. A good strong strike would break through the wood, and it would make less noise than putting a bullet through the lock. He raised his arm and took a step back.

**_NO!_ **

There was the sound of the vacuum and suddenly strong arms wrapped around Corvo, locking him in place. Panic tore through him, but before he made a sound the bond rushed in and put out the flames.

Daud was holding him against his chest. Corvo had no idea whether he could break free even if he tried.

_ “He won’t let either of you come to harm,”  _ the Heart whispered.

“The door’s boobytrapped,” Daud breathed into his ear. He released Corvo and stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow. “Rinaldo found a special key on Custis Pendleton, along with a note warning anyone from trying to open the door without it.”

“Fuck,” Corvo groaned. He flicked the blade closed.

Daud gave him a mirthless smile. “The Pendletons have been given free access to Sokolov’s inventions. The note was kind of vague, but it mentioned a nerve gas of some sort.”

Nausea overcame Corvo. The floor was unsteady under his feet. He leaned on the wall for balance and closed his eyes.

**_It’s alright. You’re fine. Let’s get this door open._ **

When Corvo looked, Daud was giving him a sad smile. It vanished, and the assassin offered him a key that had entirely too many teeth to look functional.

“Go on. I’ll wait here.”

Corvo knew Daud didn’t want to show his face to Emily. To avoid making a scene, but underneath Corvo could feel the shame. He ignored it and carefully slipped the key into the lock. He realized he was holding his breath, but the lock gave a hard click, and then he pushed the door open.

He had just enough time to see the canister of reddish brown liquid and the tubes sneaking around the room when there was a small gasp from the bed.

Emily rose to her feet. She was holding what looked like a piece of wood broken from a chair. Corvo’s heart lurched.

“Who are you? Why are you wearing that mask?” 

*

_ Emily was six years old, and not a week went by without her badgering her mother about the identity of her father. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t yet another damn tragedy; Jessamine’s eyes would always flash to Corvo, and he’d get a sick feeling at his core. When Jess didn’t give her an answer, Emily sulked or cried. _

_ Jess and Corvo both knew what would happen if the truth came out. The Royal Protector was not supposed to get involved with the ruler, and Corvo’s common birth would inflame the situation even further. Had he been born a noble Gristolian, it could have been different; a carpenter’s son from Serkonos would never be accepted as the father of the crown princess. _

_ Emily had inherited Jessamine’s pale skin, but her hair curled like Corvo’s. Cutting it short hid the curls, and when Emily protested Jessamine lied that it was traditional for a princess to have short hair. Corvo’s heart ached, because Emily had his nose, and her jawline looked like Beatrici’s. In her, Corvo simultaneously saw the family he’d lost and one he could never truly have. _

_ During the Fugue Feast Corvo was tasked with protecting both the empress and her daughter. It was traditional for the ruler to symbolically retreat during the Feast, as yet another sign that those moments were outside of official timekeeping. Corvo locked the three of them into Jessamine’s rooms, and as the day dragged on he stood at the windows while Jessamine tried to keep Emily entertained. _

_ Corvo’s thoughts were drifting, but suddenly he became aware of the silence. When he turned to look, he saw Jessamine had fallen asleep on the settee. She was still holding the story book she’d been reading from.  _

_ Emily looked at Corvo when he went and covered Jess with a quilt.  _

_ “She looks so tired,” Emily whispered.  _

_ Corvo looked at Jess and couldn’t disagree; there were deep shadows around her eyes. Her cheekbones looked sharper in the fading evening light. _

_ Emily clambered off the settee, careful not to wake her mother. She padded to the window. Corvo followed her. _

_ Emily leaned on the wide windowsill, chin in her hands. “What is the Fugue Feast, Corvo? Mummy didn’t want to explain it earlier.” _

_ Emily didn’t call Jess ‘Mummy,’ not anymore. Corvo had to swallow before he could answer. _

_ “It’s… It’s a period of time when people can be free.” _

_ Emily turned to look at Corvo. “Free?” she asked, with a frown. Corvo sat down on the windowsill as he looked for words. _

_ “You know how the Abbey makes rules people have to follow if they want to be good? During the Fugue, some of those rules don’t apply.” Void, he’d never thought he would have to explain the Feast to a six-year-old. _

_ Emily turned to look through the window. She was still frowning. “And nobody’s punished if they break the rules?” _

_ Corvo shook his head. “The Abbey thinks that if people get a day of freedom each year, it’s easier for them to follow those rules.” _

_ Emily was quiet for a long time. Corvo looked back towards the city. The streets were full of people, celebrating and drinking, on their way to break each of the Strictures before the Abbey sounded the bells.  _

_ Jess had asked if Corvo wanted to go too, but he’d refused. Why would he want to go out and fuck some faceless stranger, when he had a family at the Tower? Even if it was a family he was forbidden from acknowledging. _

_ Suddenly Emily took his hand. Corvo turned to look at her, mouth opening in question, but the look on her face made him freeze. Emily’s eyes were overflowing with tears and her lip was wobbling. _

_ “Could you be my dad, then? Just for today?” Her voice was small and she averted her eyes. _

_ Anger and sorrow slammed into Corvo, knocking the breath out of him. He wanted to go out in the streets and shout the truth out; that he was Emily’s father, and not some faceless noble that had seduced empress Jessamine. That he was the one who played with Emily, who looked after her, who knew she was afraid of wolfhounds and rats. _

_ Corvo had been there when Emily was born, and every single day since then. _

_ Instead Corvo folded himself onto the floor and pulled Emily into a tight hug. He couldn’t find words, and even if he could, they would have been stuck in his throat. _

_ Emily was shaking with sobs. “Mommy says I can’t know who my father is, but if today doesn’t count…” She trailed off with a hiccup and Corvo held her closer. He would have given anything to tell her the truth. _

*

Corvo tore the mask off, and Emily gave a shriek of astonished joy. She tossed the makeshift weapon aside and ran to him, and as soon as he wrapped her into his arms her laughter turned into sobs.

“They said you were dead. Like Mummy,” she said, voice drowned out by tears. “I’ve been here all alone.”

“You’re safe now.” Corvo kissed her messy hair and held her close. “Did anyone hurt you?”

“No.” With huge effort, Emily pulled back enough to look at his face. She wiped the tears away and smiled, just a little wobbly. “I’ve just been very bored. I almost got away twice.”

Corvo chuckled. That was his daughter alright.

Emily frowned. “I’ve been having the weirdest dreams though. Sometimes I’m in the ocean, and somebody talks to me, and sometimes they tell me things.”

A cold shiver ran down Corvo’s spine. “Things?” he asked. His voice was off.

Emily nodded, solemn. “They told me Mummy was sick.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I knew it, they didn’t have to explain it to me.”

Corvo just hugged her close again. There was the sound of boots scuffing against the floor, and he knew they had to go. 

“Listen, Emily,” he said, lowering his voice in a way he had used in the past when they’d planned pranks. “Some people are helping me. We have to leave now.”

“We’re not going back home, are we?” Emily asked as she watched him stand up straight again. There was a note of sad acceptance in her voice.

“No, sweet one,” Corvo sighed. Then he pushed the mask back in place.

_ Get going. She can’t see you. _

**_We have to talk. Later._ **

_ I need to take care of Emily. _

**_The danger’s far from over, Corvo._ **

Corvo heard the sound of Daud blinking away, and knew it was safe to lead Emily out.

*

Corvo managed to dodge Daud’s attempts at conversation. It helped that as soon as Emily was in the care of Callista, Corvo was called to meet Havelock and Martin. He still had no idea what to think about the Overseer, but Havelock was his brusque self as he briefed Corvo on the abduction he was expected to pull off.

Corvo had been dreading trying to explain how he’d dealt with the Pendletons, but as soon as the conversation turned into specifics, there was a visual inside his head; the brothers cuffed and unconscious, and above them leered a face Corvo knew from several wanted posters slapped all around Dunwall.

“I…struck a deal with one of the gang bosses,” Corvo explained haltingly as Daud fed him the details through the bond. “The twins are alive, but they will disappear.”

Martin looked impressed. There was something dark about him, Corvo thought, and the whispers of the Heart all but confirmed that. Havelock just nodded, and Corvo wondered whether the admiral was disappointed that Corvo had avoided killing again.

**_Don’t trust the admiral,_ ** Daud whispered to him as Havelock rattled off the minutiae of the next mission.  **_There’s nothing specific pinned on him, but that’s rarely a good sign in high-ranking officers._ **

Corvo barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes. He pushed Daud back, and only when he was back at Samuel’s boat did he turn inwards again.

_ So, what’s gonna happen to the Pendletons? _

A dry laugh, accompanied by the scent of sewage.  **_You know they made their riches in those rock mines? Slackjaw’s gonna shave their heads, cut off their tongues, and dump them in one._ **

Corvo suppressed a shiver. There was an odd sort of satisfaction inside him, and he was surprised to discover he was happy with his choice of letting Daud deal with the twins. Killing them wouldn’t have been as satisfying as locking them away for the rest of their lives.

_...Thanks. _

There was hesitation, and then the faintest brush of fingers against Corvo’s jaw. Corvo jerked back.

**_Sorry! Sorry._ **

Daud offered no excuses, and in a way it was worse; Corvo didn’t want to admit that he craved those not-touches. He had missed them so much when they had not been speaking, and now he’d met Daud, touched him in real life. Corvo recalled the feeling of Daud holding him, and he had to take a deep breath. If he went down that road it would lead him into the sea; he’d drown, because he wasn’t strong enough to swim against the tide.

**_I’m sorry. I won’t do that again._ ** Daud sounded sad and angry at himself, and Corvo ached to tell him it was alright. It felt like waves tugging at his feet.

It wasn’t alright. Daud had killed Jess. Daud was the reason Emily no longer had a mother. Corvo knew he couldn’t help what he felt, but he could reign in this weakness. He could stay on dry land.

*

The morning after kidnapping Anton Sokolov, Corvo stalled going out to meet the Loyalists. He hadn’t slept well, his head was hurting, and it was difficult to focus on anything when the bond was rippling inside his head. Daud had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few days, and Corvo hated that he had apparently come to rely on the assassin for comfort so quickly.

He snuck some food out of the pub kitchen and fled to the roof. The day was cool and the wind was strong. Corvo vaguely tried to avoid getting mustard into his hair as he ate, but his mind was elsewhere. He still didn’t want to think about Jess having the plague, but the Heart’s whispers were etched into his memory. He considered digging the thing out and asking, but a twinge in his gut made him abandon the idea.

The worst part was that Corvo could sympathize with her decision; had Corvo been sick with the plague, he would have done everything in his power to hide it from his family. He, too, would have played fine up until the moment he started weeping blood, and then removed himself from the picture. Anything so that Jess and Emily could have kept a clean, nice memory of him.

When the Heart had been talking about Daud, the voice had been a swirl of sadness and resentful acceptance. Corvo didn’t know if the Heart was truly Jessamine, or just an echo of her. Maybe it didn’t matter, because how could Corvo ever even consider forgiving Daud for what he had done? Even with the young woman named Billie lurking at the edges of Corvo’s attention, he couldn’t let go of the anger.

_ Daud? _

Corvo waited for an answer. There was an odd smell he could barely register, like old electricity and tar.

**_Now’s not a good moment,_ ** Daud finally muttered. 

Corvo had thought he was feeling awful, but Daud felt like he was running on fumes.  _ Where are you? _

**_It’s better you don’t know._ **

Corvo bristled.  _ You said you wouldn’t hide things anymore. _

Daud had actually never said that, not in words, but Corvo had heard it implied. He didn’t want to examine the feeling that sprung up when he acknowledged he had been mistaken on that count.

Daud sighed. The smell of damp grew stronger.  **_Listen, I’m on my way to do something risky._ **

Corvo barked a mirthless laugh.  _ And you didn’t think I should know? _

Daud groaned.  **_I don’t know what’s best for us! For fuck’s sake, my track record with this shit should cue you in._ **

Corvo struggled to come up with something, but Daud was quicker.

**_Listen. I’m sorry. If today goes tits-up… I’ll let you know, somehow. My second will come find you._ **

The implication chilled Corvo. He opened his mouth to speak, but Daud was already gone. Corvo leaned his head to his knees and tried to focus on breathing. If he allowed himself to wonder what Daud was doing, he’d lose it. The nebulous threat of his soulmate dying was enough to make his mind grow stifled with a shrill alarm.

Corvo shook the thoughts away almost violently. He spent a few minutes staring at the pub yard, and then his mind cleared a little. Emily was out by the dock, talking with Samuel. Corvo abandoned his half-finished breakfast and blinked down from the roof. 

Emily was bombarding Samuel with questions about the river. The old sailor was tinkering with the engine, and before Corvo got a chance to worry whether Emily was disturbing him, he saw an amused smile on Samuel’s face.

“Have you ever seen pirates?” Emily shuffled her feet. She turned around and her face brightened. “Corvo! Samuel is telling me about pirates!”

“Am I now,” Samuel chuckled. He straightened up and nodded to Corvo. 

“Yes!” Emily was beaming. She took Corvo’s hand and leaned on him. Corvo’s smile almost fell, because before all this Emily had not been overly inclined to physical closeness. She liked to be hugged and sometimes held, but the way she sought Corvo out every time she had the chance was new.

“Truth be told, there ain’t much pirates on the river,” Sam said with an apologetic shrug. “Mostly I gotta watch out for smugglers and river krusts.”

Emily frowned. “But… Aren’t you a smuggler as well? I heard Lord Pendleton say you were.”

Samuel cleared his throat and glanced at Corvo. When he noticed Corvo was shaking with silent laughter he relaxed again. He made an exaggerated shushing sound.

“Now, it wouldn’t do to talk about that, your ladyship.” Samuel’s eyes were twinkling, and Emily giggled. “Bad for business, you see?”

Emily nodded, fighting to look deathly serious. Then suddenly her delight vanished, like a cloud had rolled in front of the sun. She turned to Corvo. 

“I have a question.”

She said it so seriously, and Corvo almost missed the tiny quiver in her voice. In the past she’d been an open book to him. It threw him off-balance to realize that Emily had changed so much in just six months. Her childhood had ended when Jess died, and it seemed that surviving alone had made her harder somehow.

They left Samuel with his barge and walked up the stairs. Corvo saw Pendleton standing by the warehouse and trying to wave at him, but he deliberately looked at Emily as they made their way through the little alley and into the deserted street behind the pub.

Emily fiddled with something inside her pocket. Corvo stayed quiet and gave her time to formulate the question. He knew he was needed elsewhere, but his resentment for the trio of conspirators was growing by the day. 

The first real seeds of Corvo's distrust of the Loyalists had been planted on Emily's first day at the Hound Pits. Teague Martin saw children as the tiny props of pious Abbeyfolk. Pendleton, the only actual father among them, had made a comment on the girls at the Cat. He hadn't noticed Emily's small fist crumpling her half-completed drawing. The most disconcerting of all was Havelock, who treated Emily with the utmost care and affection—as a hunter might care for their prize dog.

But Callista spoke with kindness, and Samuel spun stories that whisked Emily away from the grimy pub and her dead mother. He needed them, and the Loyalists were a package deal.

“Are the stories true?” Emily finally looked up at him with a pained frown. Corvo pulled her to sit on the stairs of an abandoned building.

“Stories?” he asked when Emily didn’t elaborate. 

“The old ones.” She bit her lip and glanced around them before lowering her voice. “The ones the Overseers call heresy.”

A cold shiver raced down Corvo’s back. “Have you had more of those dreams?” He mentally kicked himself for not asking sooner.

Emily nodded. “There’s this...feeling. I get so cold sometimes.” She finally pulled her hand out of her pocket, and Corvo wasn’t the least bit surprised to see a rune hissing on her palm. “I found this by the river.”

Corvo opened his hand and Emily looked relieved to drop the rune into it. Her eyes cleared a little once Corvo pocketed the singing bone. 

“I asked Samuel what it was, and he said it’s something people make to please the Outsider.” Emily frowned. She reached for Corvo’s left hand.

Corvo stiffened. He’d been meaning to get gloves, but he had forgotten. He knew both Martin and Havelock had noticed the mark on his hand by now; it felt all the same, and maybe Corvo was even hoping to scare them.

“This is the same symbol.” Emily looked at him. “Why do you have it? It wasn’t there before.”

Corvo swallowed. “Some of the old stories are true,” he finally said. “But the way the Abbey tells them is just...one part of the truth.” He expected Emily to withdraw, but she snorted. For a second she was exactly like she’d been before the plague.

“Mummy used to say that the Abbey is useful, but that they’ve got plenty of things wrong,” she whispered with a knowing glint in her eyes. When Corvo just stared at her, she shrugged. “Mummy called them  _ empress lessons. _ She explained a lot of grownup stuff to me. They were our secret.”

Corvo nodded. He couldn’t say he was surprised; Jess had always been very pragmatic when dealing with the Abbey. Void, but he missed Jess. Emily’s look turned sad.

“I wonder who will tell me the secrets now that mom’s dead. I’m going to need a new spymaster.” Corvo grit his teeth so hard Emily noticed and actually snorted a laugh.

“Burrows is a nasty man,” she said testily. When Corvo laughed, she started giggling and relaxed. 

When they calmed down Corvo pulled her closer. “Let’s worry about that later, sweetheart.” Emily nodded. Her fingers kept playing with his left hand, tracing the mark’s black lines.

“Is the other story true, too? The one about soulmates?”

This time Emily noticed the shudder that went through Corvo. She turned to look at him, and Corvo wasn’t quick enough to hide whatever expression he was wearing.

“It is.” Emily’s voice was wondering. “You know about it.”

Corvo looked away. His throat was growing tight. He hadn’t had time to work through his grief concerning Jess, and at the same time the bond was dragging him and Daud closer to each other; to say his head was a mess was putting it very nicely.

“Was… Was Mummy your soulmate?” Emily’s voice was very small. Corvo closed his eyes, but it did nothing to hide how badly the question undid him. 

He’d wished for Jess to be his thoughtbound, but wishing didn’t change the facts; Jess had never heard Corvo’s true voice and now she was gone, and the man who  _ did _ hear him was the person who’d killed her.

He stayed quiet so long that Emily started to fidget. Sometimes Corvo forgot she was just ten; he’d been much more impatient at her age.

He cleared his throat. “I can’t talk about that right now. I’m sorry.”

Emily looked down into her hands as she nodded. “Do you think I will get a soulmate?” she asked after a long silence. 

“I don’t know,” Corvo said. He pressed a kiss into her hair as he hugged her closer again. “It doesn’t matter either way. If you do, it can be wonderful. But it’s not the only way to be happy.”

Emily nodded. They sat in silence for a long while, until the back gate screeched open. When Corvo dragged his head up, he saw Wallace striding towards them.

“Sir? The admiral needs you at the warehouse.”

Corvo nodded. He took Emily’s hand and walked her back to the pub where Callista was waiting for her.

Corvo wasn’t prepared to meeting Daud again as he was sneaking into the Boyle party. The Heart whispered about a shrine in the building opposite the manor, and Corvo judged it close enough. He wanted answers from the Outsider, and the elusive deity wasn’t answering him. 

Corvo snuck in, avoiding the stilt-walkers and guards, and up the stairs of the derelict building. He wondered whether this had been the house of Granny Rags; there were purple graffiti on almost all of the walls, and the air felt subtly wrong. 

Corvo turned around the last corner, and for a second he thought there was a weeper inside the shrine room. Then he recognized the set of the wide shoulders and the gruff voice. He wasn’t quick enough to turn around or even rein in the rush of unidentifiable emotions, because the relief made his heart skip a beat.

_ “I feel how much you miss his touch, how you worried today.”  _ The Heart’s voice was deafening, even as a whisper.

Daud whirled around so abruptly that his hip collided with the shrine, rattling the lamps and the rune that was hiss-singing on top of it. Their eyes met and everything went very quiet.

It took Corvo embarrassingly long to notice that the street outside the building was gone. When he finally tore his gaze away from Daud’s gaping, he saw the familiar blue and purple light.

_ “This place is the end of all things. And the beginning. The one who dwells here has neither. Not anymore” _

The Outsider was watching them with mild interest.

“Corvo, Daud.” His voice was smooth, but the tiny smile playing at his lips told Corvo the god had most likely planned this. Anger ignited inside Corvo, and he welcomed the heat.

“What do you want?” Corvo spat. The Heart was beating inside his pocket, and the rhythm grew insistent. Corvo feared what it would say now. He hadn’t even begun to untangle the last whispers about Daud and him.

Corvo glanced at Daud again and saw the man looked haggard. His boots were covered in mud, his jacket was torn at the front, and there was an odd smell about him. It reminded Corvo of some chemical he’d smelled in the past, sharp and cloying. He pushed the thoughts aside as they surfaced, but he couldn’t ignore that some part of Daud felt relieved, in an exhausted way.

Daud averted his gaze. Corvo didn’t have to probe into the link to know how the man was feeling; he had been drowning in his guilt and longing for the past days. Today had been particularly harrowing; first the cryptic exchange in the morning, followed by rapid-fire flashes anger and dread, any of which Daud had refused to explain. 

Corvo no longer cared about his questions. He knew he needed to get the hell away, because ignoring Daud was becoming difficult. Their dreams were mixing again, and Corvo was getting annoyed by the overlap of their mental states. He wanted to be left alone, because the option was this, worrying about his soulmate who didn’t want to trust him. He’d told Daud as much, and the assassin had not said anything in return. But he wasn’t able to fade into the background anymore, either. It was driving Corvo crazy.

“I want nothing,” the Outsider said. “But both of you have questions, and now is the perfect time to answer them.”

Corvo pushed the mask up and crossed his arms. “I just want us to be  _ done _ ,” he growled. “I don’t want to be bound to Daud.”

_ “He denies it, but it hurts to hear this from you. It makes him realize how he hurt you by saying it.” _

“As I have told both of you before, breaking the bond is not my business,” the Outsider said. “It is out of my domain. The bonds come from an ocean much deeper and older than mine.” He sounded almost bored. “Now, why don’t you ask the question you really want an answer for?”

“You know what? Fine,” Corvo spat. He’d had enough, he was boiling over. He turned to face Daud, and the Heart’s beating grew frantic and unsteady.

“How could you kill Jess in front of Emily? Who the fuck gave you the right to decide her life was worth less than an assassin’s? And what have you been doing the past week,  _ today? _ I can  _ feel _ you’re still hiding stuff from me!” His voice didn’t rise in volume, but it got heavier and heavier, and then finally cracked at the last word.

Daud met Corvo’s furious gaze steadily, but something was breaking inside him. Corvo wanted to hurt him, and at the same time he wanted to stop fighting the pull and stop struggling.

_ “Wade in. I wish you didn’t have to hurt so much.” _

“Your heart blames Daud,” the Outsider said. He wasn’t smiling, and his black eyes commanded Corvo’s attention. Corvo turned to look at him, breathing heavily.

“Have you ever asked Daud about his Whalers, Corvo?” The Outsider was standing behind him again. There were cool fingers in his hair. “Did you ask him about Billie Lurk?”

Corvo opened his mouth to say something scathing, damage control be screwed, when Daud’s face broke. The bond thrashed, and Corvo forgot his own anger for a second. 

Daud whirled away and then hit the wall so hard plaster fell off. 

“Don’t—not today, not right now. Not after tonight.” Daud said. His voice cracked. “That’s not his burden.” 

“Who are the Whalers?” the Outsider whispered to Corvo. “Where did they come from?” He was suddenly standing next to Daud, who turned his furious glare at him.

“Why did Daud save them, one by one?”

Daud threw a punch at the Outsider, but his hand passed through thin air. The god swirled back into being, floating a few inches off the ground next to Corvo.

“Orphans, criminals,” he said very softly. “Mercenaries, prostitutes.”

Corvo knew his mouth was hanging open. He’d never actually spared a single though just where the sinister assassins had come from. Learning that Daud had personally picked them up from the gutter threw him off-balance, like Daud’s punch had landed on him.

Daud wasn’t looking at Corvo or the Outsider anymore. He leaned on the wall, looking exhausted.

“So what?” he rasped. “Yeah, I saved a few people and taught them to kill. They have nothing to do with this.”

Corvo didn’t believe in any sort of a grand plan or destiny, but right then he got the unmistakable feeling that he was at a turning point. The entire world would change after whatever happened next. He turned to stare at the Outsider. 

“What does this have to do with anything?”

The Outsider gave Corvo a sly smile. “I have been waiting for Daud to tell you about this, but today he decided to take the secret to his grave. And if you don’t know what happened after he killed the empress, the next chapter of your lives will crumble. It won’t become reality. Things will lose the bedrock they should be built on.”

“Fuck you.” Daud’s voice was rough. Corvo’s breath caught when he saw the assassin’s eyes were red-rimmed. “So you’re going to throw the fucking pity party for me? You’re going to take away my decision to not tell him?”

“You are lying to Corvo,” the Outsider countered. He shifted and appeared right in front of Daud, cupping his chin. “Self-flagellation is uninteresting. It slows you down, pins men to their beds. I've no interest in those men."

“What are you talking about?” Corvo asked. He felt unsteady, mind struggling to contain whatever Daud was holding back; it was trickling through as cracks appeared.

_ “Daud fears being known. He fears it almost as much as losing you.” _

“Hiram Burrows threatened to kill the Whalers, unless Daud bent to his will,” the Outsider whispered, without glancing away from Daud. For a moment, the god looked almost sad. “The Spymaster found out where Daud was hiding, and little by little he twisted the Knife of Dunwall around his little finger, all because he was clever enough to see the only thing that could be used against him.

“Perhaps Daud is right to fear being known," the Outsider said. "He knew the Regent would double-cross him; he worked day and night to free himself from the man's grasp. But when the knife came, the one holding it was—”

“Shut up!” Daud’s voice cut through the haze like a whip. He looked furious, but when Corvo looked at him he felt no fear; he could feel the yawning chasm that threatened to rip open inside his soulmate.

_ Where have the overseers gone?  _ Corvo thought numbly.  _ They wade through chest-high waters with their hounds. _

Daud jerked backwards when the words registered. He looked at Corvo, and there was such raw helplessness buried in his expression.

“The woman I saw, wearing the red coat,” Corvo whispered. He swallowed bile. “Billie.  _ She _ betrayed you.”

The Heart’s gallop had finally slowed into a gentler rhythm.  _ “She was the first person to treat Daud like a human. She didn’t fear him. He grew to love her like a daughter.” _

Daud leaned against a wall and slid down. He managed to make it look graceful, but Corvo could see his legs just gave out. A dry sob tore free a second later.

“The Whalers. They’re your family,” Corvo whispered as it finally dawned on him. He’d been wondering just how Daud was able to share his powers with his gang members, but he could tell it wasn’t a trivial thing. Without thinking, Cor **v** o reached deep into the bond, and then he drew in a breath. 

Daud had taken the Mark and its power and woven it into something that had surprised even the Outsider. Daud had shared his power with others, so he wouldn’t be alone. He’d relished the Mark because it made him unique, and still chosen to create the arcane bond.

_ “He has been alone for far too long.” _

Daud nodded. The movement was so small Corvo almost missed it.

“Billie teamed up with a witch.” Daud croaked without meeting Corvo’s eye. “Delilah. I’ve been tracking her all this time, because the Outsider tipped me off while you were still in Coldridge.”

“Daud’s wish to atone shook the Void itself,” the Outsider put in. Corvo wanted to roll his eyes, but he was too preoccupied with the broken form of his soulmate.

“Who was this Delilah? Why was she a threat?” he asked. Trepidation was making him fidget.

Daud opened his mouth and then drew in a deep breath. He looked like he might be sick.

“She wanted Emily,” Daud whispered. “She was going to possess her.”

Corvo recoiled so hard he almost lost his balance. White noise drowned out everything else, and the anger that followed was too big to contain.

“And you didn’t think to mention that?” Corvo growled to Daud. “You chose to keep a threat like that a secret?!” He knew he was shouting, and distantly wondered whether the Outsider had dragged them into the Void because he’d foreseen how Corvo would react.

Daud’s eyes were furious when he finally looked up. “And what would you have done? The Loyalists have you collared like a hound, Corvo! They have Emily now, I tried to warn you! Where would she have been safe if you went haring off to find Delilah?”

“Fuck you! You had no right to make that decision for me!” Corvo was pacing again, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew he was seconds away from punching Daud’s lights out. 

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react like this,” Daud went on. He was taking in enormous gulps of air, clearly struggling not to yell again. “I had a back-up plan, in case I failed. Had Delilah managed to off me,  _ then  _ my Whalers would have found you and told you everything.”

Corvo stopped to stare at Daud. His head was swimming. A whale floated past the window.

“But you killed her?” he finally asked. It was the only thing he could think of that didn’t involve flinging more profanities at Daud.

Daud shrugged, sagging as the anger left him. “Trapped her into the Void. She won’t come back, ever.”

**_I’m done killing,_ ** he added, wearily.

Corvo dragged a hand down his face and growled. He didn’t know whether to march to Daud and sock him in the eye or fall on his knees with relief. The idea that Corvo would have looked into Emily’s eyes, only to have stranger staring back made him want to hurl.

“The person I trusted more than anyone sold me out to the Overseers, worked together with Burrows and Delilah.” Daud’s voice was faint now; it was clear he was dragging out the words by sheer force of will. Corvo could feel his inherent secretiveness battling with him. “She turned on Delilah, but not soon enough. We lost seven Whalers when the Overseers attacked. The rest of the loyal ones helped me deal with Delilah and her coven.”

Corvo turned to look at the Outsider. Black eyes gleamed in the purple glow of the lamps. 

“Now you know.” The god sighed. “As for the empress…”

Corvo turned away. He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to hold on to the anger, because the grief hiding behind it was too big. It would take all of him, and there would be nothing left. He still had no idea how to treat Jess’ voice speaking to him through the Heart.

“Her futures were broken,” the Outsider said. “Too many wanted her dead, and her good heart wasn’t enough. In the end, it was her doom.”

_ “Daud killed to keep the Whalers safe. And now he is torn in two, questioning his reasons, all because deciding between you and his family is impossible.” _

“Stop making excuses for me.” Daud said. He was looking at the Outsider and his voice was full of hatred. Corvo was suddenly sure that if anyone would find a way to kill the god, it would be Daud. “Even if she was dying of the plague, it was my hand that held the blade.”

“She was dying.” The Outsider looked—curious?

“I killed her.” Daud wasn’t even blinking. His eyes were burning and fierce. “I chose to do that. As long as she was alive, there could have been another solution.”

“Her futures—”

“You told me you can’t lie!” Daud cut the Outsider off. Even when he was huddled against the wall he looked like the most dangerous thing in the room. “So tell me this: was it truly hopeless?”

The Outsider was silent. He watched Daud. The assassin glared right back, and Corvo stared at them. He didn’t understand Daud.

After a long, grating silence the Outsider turned to face Corvo. “Daud hates being exposed, as you can see. But had you not known about Delilah and her plans for Emily, you would never grow to trust Daud.”

Corvo had just enough time to snarl at the god, but he wasn’t quick enough to form words of denial. The Outsider merely smiled as he turned away. With that, the gloom of the Void lifted. The air cleared and grew warm again, and Corvo could hear the heavy clicks the tallboys made as they walked. The Heart’s beat grew quiet.

Daud remained where he’d slumped down. He looked exhausted, utterly drained of energy. Corvo stood rooted to his place and the words of the Outsider replayed themselves inside his mind. He wanted to deny them, because trusting Daud felt impossible; it was like baring his throat willingly, or diving so deep he’d never reach the surface again.

Corvo remained standing for a while, and then he made his decision. It wasn’t a conscious one; there was just the feeling of something crumbling down. He crossed the room and sat down next to Daud, close enough to press their shoulders together.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about Daud protecting Emily, but just knowing there was someone out there as invested in her wellbeing as him felt too big; it made Corvo realize just how daunting a task it had felt like before, to protect Emily all alone.

Corvo felt Daud stiffen, how he fought against the comfort the touch radiated. Then the assassin sagged against him. There was no fight left in him.

“Now you know,” Daud said. He let his head fall back. There was a dull thunk as it connected with the wall.

“I’m sorry,” Corvo said. He pulled his knees to his chest and sighed. 

They sat like that for a long while, listening to the stilt-walkers patrol the street and the fireworks popping and crackling over the plague-ridden city. Neither of them moved, and very slowly Corvo let himself enjoy touching Daud. He was too weary to deny it. The bond had knitted them together while he had been dying in Coldridge, and there wasn’t a way to back out anymore. He didn’t want to. 

Corvo briefly considered broaching the topic of Jess again, but he was too tired. “Is Delilah truly gone?” he asked instead. Anxiety had managed to sink its claws into his flesh.

Daud’s lips twitched and he glanced at Corvo. Through the bond Corvo felt him calm down. “Yeah. I swear it.” He rubbed his eyes. “Delilah was marked, too, but her powers were different.” 

Corvo frowned. “How?”

Daud heaved a sigh. “She used paintings to twist the reality around her. She had been making a painting of Emily.”

Corvo groaned. “Please tell me you at least burned it.”

Daud chuckled. “I’ll tell you everything. Later.”

_ Promise? No more secrets? _

**_Promise._ **

After a short silence Daud glanced towards the window. “Didn’t you have somewhere to be?”

Corvo nodded. He was tired, but he knew a lot was riding on tonight’s success. After dealing with Lady Boyle, they could strike at Hiram Burrows. After that he could take Emily home.

Corvo let his head tip until it connected with Daud’s. The assassin drew in a breath, but then stayed quiet. Corvo felt the rasp of stubble against his temple. It was the first skin-to-skin contact they shared, but it didn’t feel even close to as monumental as he’d thought. Daud’s face was warm, and this close Corvo could smell gunpowder and chokedust. 

_ I wish none of this ever happened. I wish you and I could have met some other way.  _

He was so tired of hiding that want. Corvo knew he couldn’t uproot what he felt for Daud. It had always been there, slumbering, denied, or impossible. They were made for each other, and even if by now they were too broken to fit together, the wish remained. It was always present, a sea-song that rang through them both and whispered of depths and darkness. 

**_But then you wouldn’t have had Emily,_ ** Daud carefully pointed out. Corvo chuckled.

_ Yeah. I just wish things were simpler for us. For her. _

He had no clue how he could ever explain Daud to Emily. Someday that would come; if Emily got a thoughtbound, Corvo would have to be there to guide her through it. Corvo knew Daud was the person who could spell out his bones without trying, translate his chipped and complex humanity into something worthwhile. If Emily was to go through that same experience, Corvo knew he’d have to come clean.

**_Go to the party, Corvo. Do what you came to do. You’re the best man for the job._ **

Corvo gave a hollow laugh as he finally climbed to his feet. He stuck out his hand and after a moment of hesitation Daud grasped it and allowed Corvo to pull him up. Corvo forgot to let go immediately, because his whole body wanted to sway into Daud’s space. He wanted to forget the troubles for one short moment.

Daud must have seen what he was thinking. He let go and then ran the back of his hand down Corvo’s cheek. 

“Stay safe,” Daud said. Then there was the pop of vacuum, and he was gone.

*

The second Corvo crashed through the surface in the waterlock he felt something enormous shift; it felt like a leviathan swimming right underneath him. He floated in the dark waters for a while, allowing himself to believe it was over.

As he swam to the surface, he heard the looped recording the propaganda officer was still blaring through the loudspeakers. Hiram Burrows’ voice was like nails dragged against his skin, but hearing the man beg for mercy as he was arrested had healed an ugly wound inside Corvo’s chest. It was just like with the Pendleton twins.

_ Killing him wouldn’t have been even nearly as satisfying. _

The bark of laughter this drew from Daud was more a feeling than a sound.  **_You’re messed up, Attano._ **

Daud hadn’t come to the Tower with him, but he’d been there every step of the way. Corvo grinned weakly, just as he spied Samuel’s barge waiting for him with all the lights snuffed out.

_ Look who’s talking. _

“I take it the Lord Regent won’t be a problem anymore,” Sam remarked dryly as he hauled Corvo into the boat. “Did you swim through sewage? You  _ reek _ , Corvo.”

“Sorry about that,” Corvo muttered, but a smile was tugging at his lips. 

He had succeeded. It was almost over. The past week had been a chaos of preparing and gathering intel. Corvo had harassed Daud into telling him about the work he had been doing, talking with the gangs and collecting blackmail about nobles for the future; Daud had called it building a base of support for Emily, and Corvo had grudgingly agreed. By now he was too jaded to believe Dunwall or the empire could be ruled without employing men like Daud. 

At least the Knife would never betray Emily. Corvo couldn’t trust Daud, but  _ this, _ this he allowed himself to believe in. He could feel it, like an undeniable current running through them both. 

“We have to get out of here,” Samuel said as he coaxed the motor to life. He looked at Corvo like he was unbearably proud of him, but there was something else, too. It looked too much like fear.

**_Are you safe now?_ ** Daud’s voice drew his attention inwards again.

_ Yeah. Sam’s taking me back. _

**_Who’s Sam?_ **

_ Samuel Beechworth. Pretty much the only person I trust completely nowadays. _

Daud snorted.  **_Figures._ ** Then Corvo felt him grow serious again.  **_They’re going to throw Burrows into Coldridge._ **

_ Good riddance.  _

**_What happened to Waverly Boyle? You only mentioned she was Burrows’ mistress. My people watching the estate say she’s gone missing._ **

The question made Corvo grimace. Daud must have felt it.

**_What did you do to her?_ **

It had been a mistake, and the worst bit was that Corvo had realized it entirely too late. Something about Lord Brisby had nagged at him, but he’d just been happy to dump the unconscious Waverly Boyle into the man’s barge and be done with it without shedding blood. The episode at the shrine with Daud had been weighing Corvo’s mind, and he’d just wanted to go back to the Hound Pits to see Emily was truly safe. So he’d rushed through the mission, only to hear about the consequences a few days later when Pendleton brought it up.

Finding out that Lord Brisby was a fucking stalker had made Corvo lose his dinner, but it was done. Lady Boyle was dealt with.

**_I see._ **

Corvo cursed the bond for giving Daud enough to deduce what Corvo had done.

_ She got what was coming for her,  _ Corvo said. He tried to reach the resolve he’d had.  _ She was funding Burrows.  _

**_It would have been kinder to just kill her._ **

Corvo screwed his eyes shut. He knew Daud was right, and he didn’t want to think about it now. 

_ Shut up.  _

**_Listen, it’s not like I can talk, but—_ **

_ Yeah, you can’t! Shut it, will you. _

Corvo pulled away from the link. His heart was beating too fast. The success of the evening no longer felt like a victory. He knew he’d been consistently choosing the crueler options throughout the journey. Sure, the people he’d  _ neutralized  _ (Corvo chuckled at the word Havelock had been using) had it coming, but the net sum of misery was greater this way.

Maybe he should have just slit the throat of every individual the Loyalists had sent him after, Corvo thought. He watched the water, deep in thought, and failed to notice the absence of Samuel’s familiar chatter.

Some of his good mood returned when Emily ran to greet him at the door. Corvo hugged her close, and if nothing else he was glad there was no blood under his fingernails as he took Emily’s hand. She led him to the back of the pub, beaming. Corvo forced himself to let go of the tension. He could afford to rest for one evening. He almost believed the thought, knowing that Daud was somewhere in Dunwall.

Havelock thrust a glass into his hand, but Corvo was distracted by Emily tugging at his sleeve. The drink sloshed as he bent down, but Corvo didn’t care. 

“I knew you could do it,” Emily whispered. Her eyes were bright and eager. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_The raven himself is hoarse_ by William Shakespeare**  
> (Lady Macbeth, Act 1 Scene 5 of _Macbeth_ )
> 
> The raven himself is hoarse  
> That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan  
> Under my battlements. Come, you spirits  
> That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,  
> And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full  
> Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood,  
> Stop up th' access and passage to remorse,  
> That no compunctious visitings of nature  
> Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between  
> The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,  
> And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,  
> Wherever in your sightless substances  
> You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,  
> And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,  
> That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,  
> Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,  
> To cry "Hold, hold!"


	3. Who knows who steals bones if not the connoisseur of  bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by [Kiko](https://twitter.com/ConAffettoKiko). <33
> 
> I'm definitely trying to publish all of this before the year ends!
> 
> Chapter title from the poem _Probability of the Sparrow_ by Rodney Gomez.

“I’m sorry something terrible Corvo.”

**_Corvo!_ **

“I’m sure they’ll want to dispose of me too, once they find out what I’ve done. Snakes.”

**_Corvo, answer me!_ **

“I hope you’ll make it.”

**_Corvo, please— No, no, no—!_ **

“I hope you’ll find your way out of this cursed city.”

*

The Wrenhaven stank.

There was a corpse with milky white eyes staring at him. It was— had been a young man. There was still rusty, crusted flakes around the eyes. The body was bloated, and even the school of hagfish circling the raft gave it a wide berth.

The river stank of death. There was a bitter taste in his throat. Had he been sick? Why was his body swaying wildly between being too hot and so cold his teeth would have chattered if he had enough energy for it?

Corvo managed to close his eyes. The raft he was lying on thunked softly against something and swayed. Corvo had just enough sense left to wonder what would happen if he fell into the water before darkness closed in.

*

_ “That him?” _

_ “He matches the description boss gave us.” _

_ “Ha, look, he even has the mask.” _

_ “Very funny. Put that down, you nimrod. If Daud sees you, he’ll skin you alive.” _

_ “Rulfio, you never know the true value of humor.” _

_ “How about you shut up. Get his stuff, I bet he’ll want it back when he wakes up.” _

_ “Such a miserable soul. You’re like Thomas, except he’s even duller than you.” _

_ “Rinaldo, I sweat to the Outsider—” _

_ “Yes, yes, alright. Do you think he’ll make it?” _

_ “No idea. He has the Mark, so there’s a chance.” _

_ The world lurched. Then there was the prickling of the Void. These two repeated several times. _

_ “Why does Daud want him? I thought we were supposed to just keep an eye out on what’s happening in the city.” _

_ “Your guess is as good as mine.” _

_ “Are they hatching a plan? Is Daud secretly in league with Attano?” _

_ “Rinaldo, what part of the sentence ‘I don’t know’ did you fail to understand?” _

*

His head was pounding. As soon as Corvo registered the pain, he wished he could just go back to being unconscious. It was worse than any headache he’d ever had, even worse than the concussion he’d suffered when he was twenty-five. Much worse. Someone was drilling into his skull, scooping the thoughts out of his brain. He whimpered. 

A warm, dry hand brushed his hair back. It felt like the owner was checking his temperature, but the touch lingered for a while. Then there was the prick of a needle, and a blessed haze in which he sank.

*

He slept for a long time and when wakefulness finally breached the murk it came slow and sluggish. His head was groggy, and it took him a long time to understand that his surroundings looked unfamiliar simply because he was in a foreign place. The room appeared to be a part of an abandoned building; several windows were broken, there was broken furniture scattered around the upper level, and the smell of damp and mildew was thick in the air.

Corvo turned on the cot he was lying on, and realized two things. One, the room was definitely inhabited, because at the back there were several cabinets full to bursting with files, papers and gear. There was even a threadbare carpet on the floor. 

Two, the person obviously occupying the space was asleep by the foot of the cot, leaning against it in a position that made Corvo’s neck hurt.

“Daud?” His voice was barely there, but the assassin jolted awake like Corvo had electrocuted him. His gaze was vacant for half a second, and then he looked at Corvo.

“Shit,” Daud rasped. “Fell asleep.”

Corvo laid back down. Everything hurt.

“Where are we?”

“Flooded District.” Daud shrugged, as if to give him the grand tour with that small gesture. He looked barely any better than what Corvo felt like.

Corvo managed a weak smile. Daud shuffled to his feet and cracked his neck with a grimace. He blinked away and was back a second later, proffering a water canteen. Corvo tried to grasp it, but his hand was shaking so badly the canteen fell through his limp fingers. Daud rolled his eyes.

“Lightweight.”

“Asshole,” Corvo offered back. He struggled into a sitting position, and after hesitating Daud shuffled closer and held the canteen up for him. Corvo tried to drink sparingly, but his throat was dry. At some point of the slow process he lost the strength to sit upright and sagged against Daud’s bulk. He was too tired to really care.

He tried to will his boggy mind to work. “Emily,” he started. “She's—”

“Alive, and won't be in danger.” Daud steadied the canteen. “Havelock has her. She's safe enough for now.”

"You sure?" Corvo asked. Daud nodded. 

Corvo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I'm glad she has someone else looking out for her,” he mumbled before he could filter the words. Daud went stiff. 

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Finally Daud exhaled. When Corvo shook his head at the offered canteen, he didn’t move away. Corvo tried to will himself to lie back down, but Daud was warm and he smelled nice. Feeling his heartbeat was comforting. He was only wearing a thin shirt, and it felt soft against the bare skin of Corvo’s back.

_ Couldn’t wait to get me naked, huh? _

It was hilarious to both feel Daud bristling against his back and sense his indignation through the bond.

**_You were covered in sewage. Next time I’ll let you sleep in the dumpster like the feral beast you are._ **

_ Mm. Touchy.  _

Without thinking, Corvo turned his head just enough to press it against Daud’s. He felt a muscle jump at Daud’s jaw.

**_Corvo…_ **

_ Shut up.  _

Daud sighed. It was somewhere between exasperation and worry.

**_Just making sure you don’t stab me when you’re less loopy on pain medication._ **

Corvo felt the true worry behind the words, but he didn’t answer. He pressed closer, and at some point Daud’s fingers started to card through his hair.

*

Morning light filtered into the room. Corvo woke up slowly, and again it took him a while to remember where he was. He stretched cautiously, but aside from feeling sore all over, he was fine. His head was still stuffy and it ached, but not even close to the debilitating pain he’d been in.

There was a familiar  _ pop _ as a Whaler appeared. To his credit, Corvo didn’t even jump. The man pushed the mask up, revealing a freckled face and a mop of red hair. 

“Lord Attano?”

“None other,” Corvo groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position. 

The Whaler nodded very seriously, and Corvo concluded that the joke must have flown over the guy’s head by several feet.

“My name is Thomas. I’m Daud’s second in command.”

“Nice to meet you. Do you know where my clothes are?” Corvo asked. He looked around, and realized he must have been sleeping in Daud’s quarters. He fought down the embarrassment and wondered just what the Whalers must have thought of him.

Thomas looked apologetic. “Sir, when Rulfio and Rinaldo found you, three hagfish were almost done with pulling you into the river. Your coat didn’t make it.” He sounded like he was delivering Corvo the news that his entire family had perished.

“Fine,” Corvo sighed. “Just, get me something to wear.”

Thomas nodded, and a short while later Corvo was tugging on what looked suspiciously like a Whaler uniform. It fit him perfectly, but as he tried to assure Thomas that no, he didn’t need the industrial mask, there was another  _ pop _ down the stairs.

Corvo shrugged the gray coat on and descended the stairs. He was happy to notice that everything was working as it should, he was just feeling extremely hungry. Every muscle was aching like he was once again a scrawny kid and had gotten into a scrap with older boys. The Mark had clearly healed him much quicker than usual. Right when he started to wonder what had happened to the Heart, he felt the familiar pulsing inside his pocket.

_ “He has never been as relieved as he was when they brought you in alive.” _

Daud looked up from his papers when Corvo approached the table with Thomas at his heels. An amused grin spread across his face.

“Novice uniform, eh? Looks about right.”

Corvo took a moment to understand, and when he turned to look at Thomas with raised eyebrow the Whaler yanked his mask back on and vanished with a murmured  _ “breakfast!” _

Corvo rolled his eyes. Then he turned back towards Daud, who was still watching him. The humor was draining away and replaced by something Corvo couldn’t find a name for. He waited, and then Daud abandoned the papers. He stepped around the table and stalked closer.

Corvo felt his heart trying to pick up the pace. Daud stopped just close enough to brush against him. His expression was melancholy and almost soft.

“I was worried,” Daud said very quietly. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets. 

Corvo ached to press closer. He tried to reach for his reasons not to, but the truths had changed; he was out of allies, save the killer he had for a soulmate. The said killer had saved him again, this time from an embarrassing death of becoming hagfish food. 

“Any news about Emily? Havelock?” Corvo asked to break the tension.

Daud shook his head. “Nothing new for a day or so now. My people are on the lookout.”

_ “The only hope for Emily lies within the hands of her father and the man who killed her mother.” _

Both of them flinched and looked away. Corvo tried to beat back the anxiety that was yelling at him to act  _ now, _ to run out and charge towards the unknown, consequences be damned as long as Emily lived. He needed Daud’s help; his network and resources, but just Daud himself as well. Where Corvo was brash and quick to anger and act, Daud had a calculating, analytical streak that would serve them much better now.

Corvo looked at Daud, the silence just bordering on awkward, and he found that most of his resentment was gone. Maybe this was how the thoughtbond worked, making them compliment each other.

_ “Go to him. Both of you need it.” _

Corvo closed the remaining distance. He tucked his face under Daud’s chin, ignoring the sputter the assassin made, and gingerly wrapped his arms around his waist. The man stood stiff, and then his breath escaped as he hugged Corvo closer. Daud let go of the bond, and Corvo’s breath hitched when that bright thing he’d spied earlier started to bleed into him. He didn’t want to give it a name or even acknowledge it, but it was there. It had been there for years, and he recognized it because he had been nursing that exact same flame.

Corvo closed his eyes. His nose was brushing against Daud’s neck. They were pressed together, and it felt very simple, after all this, that he should feel so safe with Daud. The Knife was wearing the customary vest over his shirt, but he radiated heat. Their breaths synchronized, and once again Corvo thought of drowning; Daud’s touch was the best thing he’d ever felt. 

**_They found you at the edge of the Flooded District. You had nearly slipped off the raft._ **

It took Corvo a moment to decipher the feeling behind the words. Gnawing worry, followed by relief that made your knees weak.

**_They poisoned you, but someone fucked up._ **

Corvo smiled. 

_ Samuel.  _

**_The boatman?_ **

Corvo heard the note of rage, and pulled back enough to meet Daud’s eye. 

_ He saved me. Gave me only half the dose, and then slipped me away. _

Corvo watched Daud work his jaw for a few seconds, and for some reason the sight made him chuckle. Daud frowned.

**_What?_ **

_ I always imagined you as the sulking type. Who knew I was right. _

Daud stepped away from him with a snort, but Corvo saw his neck was going red. He coughed delicately, ignored the dark glare Daud sent to him, and then noticed Thomas was hovering outside Daud’s office; he was holding a tray and looking like he wished nothing more than to vanish into thin air again.

Corvo was suddenly extremely interested in a painting of Burrows that had been mutilated with a sword. He heard Thomas rush in, mumble a few words to Daud who only grunted in reply, and then vanish. When he turned around, the assassin was sitting behind his desk and rolling out a map.

“Sit down and eat. We need to make plans.”

The atmosphere sobered instantly. Corvo dug into the breakfast, and let Daud fill him in on four days worth of news.

“So it’s Lord Regent Havelock now,” Corvo snorted when he was done with the eggs and porridge. 

“I knew he was planning something, but I didn’t think they’d poison you,” Daud said in a gloomy voice. He jabbed a finger at the Tower symbol on the map. “The three haven’t been spotted at Dunwall Tower. My sources claim that they left the Hound Pits in a rush.”

“I hope Samuel and the rest got away,” Corvo mumbled, only to mask the worry that was gnawing at him. Daud didn’t need to even look at him to tell what he was truly thinking about.

“Havelock has said Lady Emily is in his custody. What we need to know is where they’re keeping her.” Daud leaned back and crossed his fingers behind his head. “I’ve been keeping tabs on the noble houses after the—assassination.” There was only a faint quiver in his voice. He cleared his throat. Corvo readied himself for the bitter sorrow, but instead there was just a melancholy sort of acceptance. Daud went on before he could understand it.

“The majority of them are still in favor of the Kaldwins, but only if the rightful heir can be restored. I have blackmail material on most of them, so securing support for Emily isn’t necessarily the hardest part. There is a rift in the City Watch as well, concerning whether Burrows had legitimacy. The latest intel suggests that the favor is moving towards Emily after the latest events. 

“Lizzy Stride of the Dead Eels still sorta owes me a favor. They’re going to cause some ruckus with the Hatters and the Bottle Street gang when we start to move, so the City Watch will be occupied with that. The Whalers and I will join you when you’re ready, and we’ll start at the Hound Pits. We’ll find her and fix this mess.”

Corvo squinted, and Daud coughed self-consciously. His neck was definitely getting red again. “I did say I was going to help.” His voice was subdued, but the bond was positively glowing with fierce protectiveness Corvo had never felt from Daud in the past. It didn’t clash with the sadness; the two feelings melted together as he felt around their edges, and it was clear that Daud could feel it too. The Knife kept looking at Corvo with a tight expression.

The Heart gave a very gentle pulse.  _ “He is unable to find peace with his past, but he seeks to heal the future.” _

Corvo looked at Daud, and then he pushed away from his chair. Daud grew stiff as he pulled close, but then Corvo leaned down and his breath caught.

Corvo closed the distance and kissed Daud. He cupped his cheeks, ran his thumb down the scar, and swallowed the gasp Daud made. He pressed closer, and then Daud groaned and pulled him practically into his lap,  _ finally  _ kissing back.

The bond exploded into white light. Corvo shuddered when he felt it tear through them both, and Daud’s arms around his waist grew tight. The chair made a warning creak, but neither paid it any mind. Corvo tried to find words to describe the feeling, but it was overwhelming.

Corvo licked into Daud’s mouth, and a shiver ran down his spine when Daud reciprocated, their tongues meeting in the middle. His breathing was coming in gasps because Void, he had wanted to do this for more than twenty years; he was finally kissing his soulmate. They fit together so damnably well, and Corvo gasped as Daud stroked his back, pulled at his shirt, like he couldn’t get enough of feeling him.

**_Fuck—_ **

_ Mhm. _

**_Corvo, I—_ **

_ Shut up. _

Daud’s lips were thin and surprisingly soft, and he kissed like he was drowning and Corvo was air. Corvo knew the fingers digging into his back would leave bruises, and he pressed into it; he wanted something he could touch later. Corvo ran his fingers through Daud’s hair and gripped it just like he had dreamed of doing, and right then there was an exceedingly polite cough from the doorway.

Daud pulled back, and his eyes were murderous.

**_I’m going to fucking kill—_ **

“Sir? We might have a lead.”

Corvo slipped down from the chair and busied himself with straightening the shirt Daud had almost pulled off. His face was on fire, but the Whaler now standing by the table didn’t pay him any mind. He, too, pushed his mask off, revealing black skin and clever eyes. He gave Corvo a polite nod.

Daud, who looked like someone had just dragged him through a hedge, somehow managed to level an imposing glare at the man. It went totally ignored.

“Well?” Daud said. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick out even more. Corvo almost bit through his lip. He knew the situation was deathly serious, but something about Daud being flustered made him want to laugh hysterically.

The Whaler pulled out a note. “Our patrol noticed there’s a lot of City Watch officers milling around the Hound Pits. They didn’t try to get in, but they found this note in the trash. It’s an itinerary, detailing several supply runs between the main Watch barracks and the Kingsparrow Island.”

Corvo cursed under his breath. Daud’s look grew even more serious.

“Thank you, Rulfio. Tell the others to be ready to move. We’re leaving soon.”

“Sir, about what you said.” Rulfio glanced at Corvo. “The men are uncertain of what you meant.”

Daud glowered at the Whaler. “Did I stutter?”

Rulfio looked very unimpressed. “There’s never been a mission where ‘each man and woman can decide whether they want to join or not’ before, sir.” Somehow his voice was perfectly polite and still managed to convey the air of honest disbelief.

Corvo looked at Daud, who refused to meet his eye.

“Things are changing,” the Knife grunted. “Better get used to it. If we pull this stunt off, I expect all of us will be out of jobs.”

Rulfio nodded, then vanished. Corvo stared at the spot where the man had been standing, but then the hysteria bubbled over. He started to laugh. First it was almost inaudible, but when Daud turned to glare at him Corvo doubled over and let it spill free. The assassin’s hair was still sticking out, and the flush showed no signs of receding.

**_Asshole._ **

Corvo grinned. He didn’t think about it, just crossed the room back to Daud, who pulled him closer. He continued to sulk until Corvo pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Are your men going to be trouble?” Corvo asked. Daud gave a rough laugh.

“I expect they will have the time of their lives gossiping about this. But otherwise, no.” He tucked his nose into Corvo’s hair and inhaled. There was a hesitant twinge in the bond.

**_I’m not...in the habit of taking lovers._ **

Corvo nosed Daud’s jawline. The more they touched, the better the man felt; Corvo knew he could spend hours just stroking his skin, mapping out scars and muscles. In a way he had already done it, back when they’d been young and reaching for each other through the distance separating them.

_ Because it’s a risk? I can take care of myself. _

He didn’t expect Daud to pull back and look at him with a serious frown. Then he looked away. His jaw was stiff again.

**_That, but…_ **

Corvo waited. He knew this was likely the only chance they would get to talk for a long while. Time was running out, but his body was craving to feel Daud, to be as close as possible.

Finally Daud sighed. He looked resigned.

**_I don’t fuck people._ **

_ What? _

Corvo didn’t force Daud to meet his eye. He rested his head on the assassin’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

_ Not at all? _

Daud snorted.  **_I have, I’m not a damn virgin, Attano. It’s just never been a priority._ ** He exhaled, forcing tension out of his muscles.  **_It...doesn’t hold much appeal. Maybe it’d be different if it’s someone I—care about._ **

The sentiment was delivered haltingly, the words almost tangling together. Corvo’s heart ached.

_ We don’t have to. This is more than I thought I’d ever get. _

Daud kissed his temple. He exhaled, letting the tension trickle out.

**_I want more._ ** Daud inhaled like he hoped he could pull the words back.

Corvo wanted to acknowledge what Daud said, but he couldn’t find the words. He settled for squeezing Daud slightly. 

_ I’m not going to lose you. Again,  _ Corvo said. The thought of losing this, whatever they shared, made his stomach turn. He would figure out a way to keep Daud; he was ready to do just about anything to finally have a soulmate.

Emily’s face drifted across the bond. He felt Daud’s neck stiffen and then relax, and Corvo sighed as he finally addressed the whale in the room.

_ I will find a way to tell her. Somehow. _

**_I’m not expecting her to forgive me._ **

_ No,  _ Corvo agreed quietly.  _ But I won’t lie to her either. It’s up to her to make up her mind after that. _

Corvo could tell Daud was feeling apprehensive, but a sudden surge of desperate possessiveness surprised him.

**_I don’t want to lose you,_ ** Daud choked out. The confession was followed by abject shame.

Corvo made a soft noise and then pulled Daud into a kiss. Void, he had wished to hear that for so long. He had dreamed of them finding a way to be together, and it felt beyond cruel if this short moment was all they were going to get. He let that thought go, knowing he revealed his whole hand as he did.

Daud gasped softly, and then he backed Corvo against a wall. His hands, so big and strong, were gripping Corvo’s hips, thumbs stroking through the fabric. Corvo kissed back almost frantically, thrusting his tongue into Daud’s mouth to taste him. It felt so good, he thought, like for a second everything was going to be alright. Daud was a little taller than him, his hair was thick as Corvo once again buried his fingers in it, and it was such a novel experience to feel almost weak. 

Daud pulled back and stared at him with a half-wild expression. His pupils were blown wide, and Corvo imagined what he’d look like in bed; he tried to prevent the image from escaping, but Daud grinned almost ferally.

“Who’s getting impatient, now?”

_ Sorry.  _ Corvo rubbed his face and gave himself a mental kick. He wouldn’t be an asshole about  _ this; _ the thought made him vaguely nauseous.

**_I like it,_ ** Daud murmured.

_ We don’t have time now,  _ Corvo thought. He must’ve sounded just as grudging as he felt like, because Daud laughed. It was the first time he did so without sounding menacing or deprecating, and Corvo liked it.

**_Later, bodyguard._ **

Daud kissed him once more, this time light and slow. He curled his fingers along Corvo’s jaw, possessive and gentle as he tilted his head up. Corvo melted into it, and for that last moment he allowed himself to just feel.

*

Callista was still alive, as were Piero and Sokolov. Corvo felt an overwhelming rush of relief, but it was forgotten the second he realized that each one of them recognized Daud on sight. Sokolov looked at the assassin with a dark smile and greeted him by name, whereas Piero backed away and into a tool cart. He went down in a crashing heap, and Corvo turned to look at Daud.

The assassin met his gaze with a shrug. “I was the only one who never wore a mask.”

Corvo snorted. He left Piero to sort himself out, ignoring his stuttering as he started towards the tower.

Callista let out a shriek when she saw Daud, and Corvo had to waste ten minutes giving her something of an explanation. Only then was she able to tell him what had happened. 

“Samuel is still somewhere close by,” Callista finished. She’d had to sit down, and Corvo saw she was very deliberately facing away from Daud. The assassin remained by the open door, arms crossed and expressionless. “He told me to send up that flare if you ever returned.”

Corvo looked at the flare rigged to the window frame. He smiled. 

“Samuel’s still around?” he asked. Callista nodded and wiped her eyes.

“He wouldn’t tell me what happened the night you vanished, but I heard Havelock corner him, tell Sam that he would be the one to poison your glass.”

Corvo ground his teeth together. He’d never  _ liked  _ Havelock, but now that dislike was sharpening and growing dark. The admiral had taken Emily hostage and hurt so many Corvo cared about.

“The boatman saved Corvo’s life,” Daud suddenly said. His voice was quiet. “He must have known that poison wouldn’t kill Corvo if he lowered the dosage enough.” Corvo felt the implication in the words; Samuel Beechworth was quickly becoming a person Daud wanted to know more about.

Callista’s head whipped around. She stared at Daud, who met her gaze, but the governess never said anything. Instead she stood up and walked to the window.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked Corvo. “Samuel will take you to the Kingsparrow Island.”

The sight of the small boat was welcome. Corvo and Daud blinked down to the waterline, and as Corvo listened to the familiar gurgle of the engine his heart beat just a tiny bit lighter. Samuel raised his hand in greeting as he drew closer, and Corvo saw he was grinning.

“I knew you’d make it!” Samuel pulled the lever that killed the motor, and before Corvo could react the older man splashed to him and pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Corvo.”

Corvo sagged against Samuel. He hugged back as weary laughter made him shake.

“Sam, you saved my fucking life. I owe you.”

Samuel pulled back. His eyes were melancholy, but he was still smiling. “Still. I’m so glad you made it. Goes to show it doesn’t pay to bet against you, eh?”

Corvo saw Samuel’s eyes slide to Daud. The boatman let Corvo go and crossed his arms. He didn’t look even remotely scared as he cocked his head and looked the assassin straight in the eye.

“ _ You’re _ his thoughtbound?” Sam’s rough voice was tinged with amusement and horror. Daud scowled. Surprise and exasperation flashed through the link.

“None of your damn business.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Knife.” Samuel frowned, clearly unimpressed. “It’s not one or two of your damn Whalers I’ve ferried back to the Flooded District after they’d been wounded. I take it they never mentioned just how they made it back.”

Daud bristled, but Samuel ignored him. The boatman turned to Corvo and lifted an eyebrow, as if to say  _ keep him in check, will ya?  _ Corvo grinned, if only to make Daud even more annoyed. Then he cleared his throat.

“Sam, will you take us to the Kingsparrow Island? Havelock and the rest are camped there.”

“Can do,” Samuel said. “But it’s a damn fortress, Corvo. How will you get in?”

“We can’t fit more than three of my men into that barge,” Daud cut in. “I would’ve liked to have more backup.”

Samuel rolled his eyes, but then he nodded. His eyes flicked to Corvo’s left hand and then to Daud, and when a moment later three Whalers materialized close to them, he didn’t flinch or even look surprised. Corvo made a mental note to ask just how familiar Samuel was with the Whalers if they ever made it through this.

Daud turned towards the assassins. “We’re gonna be in some deep shit. Hope you came prepared.”

One of the Whalers snorted, and Corvo recognized the voice of the man named Rulfio.

“With all due respect, sir, things couldn’t get much worse.”

Daud heaved an annoyed sigh. “You might as well leave the masks here. We’re gonna go save the future empress, and I bet she doesn’t have much pleasant memories about us.”

Corvo hadn’t even thought about that, but as the two men and one woman peeled the industrial masks off without a word of complaint, his chest felt tight.

_ Thank you. _

Daud glanced at him sideways.

**_It’s the least I could do._ **

Thomas tossed his mask aside, and then his eyes grew brighter.

“Samuel! Still kicking.”

Corvo heard the old man bark a laugh. “How’s that arm, son? Last I saw you, it was almost falling off.”

Daud’s eyes grew dark, but only Corvo noticed.

**_I think I need to have a word with my men about the meaning of the words “secret base.”_ **

Corvo bit back laughter. 

*

The lighthouse was a veritable fortress, and Corvo felt a chill run down his spine when he imagined trying to storm the place. The yard was swarming with soldiers and tallboys, and the familiar groaning of the watchtower made his hair stand on edge.

Luckily they had no need to announce themselves. During the boat ride he and Daud had talked about possible approaches, and they’d agreed on going for the stealthy option; there were only five of them, and their odds of rescuing Emily would plummet if they were discovered. Corvo had been surprised to hear the three Whalers agreeing to this. 

The woman was a complete stranger. She’d pushed back her hood and revealed dirty, blond hair, chopped short. She spoke with a deep voice and such a thick Morleyan accent Corvo had trouble understanding her. He’d secretly wondered why Daud had summoned a novice assassin, but then he’d seen Galia Fleet blink.

Her reach was almost double of what Corvo could do. She’d seen him gaping and just grinned. Corvo had felt Daud’s flash of pride through the bond.

**_She’s much better than she looks._ **

At the gatehouse they were forced to fight, and Corvo discovered that knowing someone has your back made all the difference. He’d grown so accustomed to fighting alone, first as the Royal Protector and then as an assassin. Now he suddenly had four trained killers on his side, all of them possessing the same supernatural powers as him. The fight was over in two minutes, despite the unfavorable numbers.

Daud nudged a smashed music box with his boot. “We gotta look into these,” he grunted to Thomas. “If the Abbey is going to keep using them, we have to find a way to fight back.”

“Sir,” Thomas said and then fell silent. Daud turned to look at him. Thomas was one of those guys whose age was impossible to pin down. His messy hair was struggling to break free from under the hood. He met Daud’s eyes without flinching.

“Spit it out.”

“What will we do after all this?” Thomas’ voice was low, but Corvo got the impression the assassin wasn’t trying to prevent him from overhearing them. 

“How about we live through  _ this  _ first,” Daud grunted back. Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Sir…”

“Not now, Thomas.”

Daud threw an uneasy glance at Corvo before continuing onwards. The floor was littered with dead and unconscious overseers and soldiers. Corvo didn’t spare a glance to any of them. He didn’t have the time or energy to see how many had died fighting for Havelock’s cause.

When they finally reached the elevator and it started to groan its way up, Corvo turned to face the rest. He listened to the howling wind outside, the moans of the cables pulling them towards the stormy sky, and then rubbed his eyes. In another life, Emily would have loved to visit a place like the huge lighthouse; she had no fear of heights.

In this life Corvo was riding the elevator up with four assassins, who had killed her mother.

“We have to save Emily. Everything else comes second.” He hated how exhausted his voice sounded. 

Rulfio flashed him a toothy grin. “Listen, I know we’re more known for ensuring people  _ don’t _ breathe after we’re done, but it’s not our whole skillset.”

Thomas and Galia turned to look at Rulfio with horrified stares and Daud’s face turned murderous, but Corvo didn’t mind. Rulfio had no need to sugarcoat what he’d done or who he was. Corvo didn’t know whether the man had been part of the group when Jess had died, but he didn’t really care. He would mourn Jess for a long time, but casting all of the blame on Daud and his Whalers was becoming more and more difficult.

Rulfio dug through his pockets and then handed Corvo a strip of leather.

“Tie up your mop, Attano. The wind will strangle you with it.”

Corvo accepted the hair tie with a chuckle. “Thanks.” He looked at the others again as he tried to gather his hair into a ponytail for the first time in years. It was difficult to blame the Whalers, yes, because now they were on his side, and he could feel the arcane bond tying them to Daud. It didn’t feel like the thoughtbond. There was an element of choice rigged to it in a way he found hard to put into words, but it was definitely there. 

Daud’s gruff demeanor didn’t fool Corvo for a second; these people were definitely his family. Thomas and the rest of them occupied the same space with Daud, and had done so for years. What little Corvo had seen of the gang, it was evident they respected Daud but didn’t fear him. And Daud cared about them. 

Corvo forgot to blink when he finally understood what the thought meant. He was bound to Daud, and because both of them had finally admitted they didn’t want to lose that connection, his future would involve the Whalers, too. Daud becoming a part of his—and Emily’s—future felt enormous in a way his mind wasn’t able to grasp.

“I’d prefer taking Havelock, Martin and Pendleton alive, if possible,” Corvo said to steer his mind clear.

Daud nodded. The bond sang with a dark note, and Corvo was taken aback to feel it. Daud was angry because of what the Loyalists had done to him, Corvo.

“Judging by what we’ve seen here, the lighthouse won’t have but the most trusted of guards.” Daud looked upwards. The final platform was just visible through the storm. Rain was pattering the windows of the lift, coming and going in flurries as the wind raged.

“Galia, Thomas. You have the longest transversal range. Take the outside route. Make it to the top, because there is a staircase that goes to the very tip. If they try to force our hand, we’ll need eyes up there.”

Corvo suppressed a shiver. He didn’t mind heights, but the lighthouse was enormously tall. The winds would be mad up top.

“Corvo and I will take the main building,” Daud went on. He turned to look at Rulfio. “Disable the lift, so they can’t call for reinforcements if they discover us. We need a way to get back down once it’s over. And watch our backs.”

Rulfio nodded, now deathly serious. Daud leaned against the thick glass and turned his eyes upwards. In the cramped lift, his arm brushed against Corvo’s.

_ Thanks. _

**_I’m just trying to fix this mess._ **

_ I know. But you could’ve also just run.  _

Daud turned to look at him and then back towards the platform. They were almost there.

**_You know that’s not true._ **

That bright thing Corvo had seen earlier was back, creeping along the bond. Corvo wanted to sink into it, he wanted to close his eyes and lean into Daud’s space. He wanted to  _ keep _ Daud, figure out a way to coexist, because his heart was too chipped to survive losing him again. So he finally opened his side of the bond and welcomed the feeling in. 

**_Oh._ **

Daud sounded so uncertain. Corvo knew his own feelings were bleeding through as well, but he didn’t care. He still hadn’t forgiven Daud for killing Jessamine, but their situation was too complicated to be entirely black and white. Both of them knew that by now. For a few seconds both of them were lost as the light trickled inside them. Corvo could tell it would be impossible to get out.

The lift creaked to a halt, and in the absence of the groaning metal the storm sounded much louder. 

“Let’s go,” Corvo said. He pushed the door open, and the furious wind immediately tried to grab him. He saw Galia and Thomas blink away, and he briefly wished them luck. Then he turned to Daud and nodded.

“Good luck,” Rulfio said as he turned towards the electric cabinet on the wall.

The walkways were slippery and wet, and the wind was a ravenous beast. Its wailing drowned out what little noise Daud and Corvo might have made, but in exchange it tugged at their clothing and made visibility almost zero. Rain was coming from all directions at once, freezing cold and unforgiving.

The guards were just dark smudges against the falling evening. They were ridiculously easy to sneak up on, and Corvo opted for choking them out. He saw Daud do the same. They dumped each body away from the railings, paying little mind to anything but moving forward. Daud’s face was stony, but Corvo could feel the agitation churning underneath the exterior. In a way it was comforting to know he wasn’t the only one who was scared.

Corvo pulled at the front door of the lighthouse building, and to his surprise it opened. He cast a glance at Daud, who shook his head. Corvo saw his wristbow was held at the ready. Daud scanned the foyer, and then nodded towards the stairs. Corvo blinked forward, and he heard the sound of Daud’s transversal; the assassin was covering his blind spots. Daud’s magic worked differently than his, true, but the grace of the man betrayed how long he’d lived with the Mark.

The main room was a chaos. Corvo’s head swam for a second as he tried to take it all in and make a call. There was blood splattered all over the table, bodies slumped down, a toppled bookshelf next to the fireplace—

Daud strode across the room. His eyes were stormy as he bent down to inspect one of the bodies. Corvo looked closer, and his eyes went wide.

“That’s Martin,” he said. 

He felt a dark rush in the bond, but Daud was already reaching into his pocket.

“He’s been poisoned.”

Martin’s face was deathly pale. Corvo hadn’t even noticed he was still breathing. There was a mixture of sick and blood spread down his chin and front. He looked seconds away from death.

Daud pulled out what looked like a pin and unceremoniously shoved it into Martin’s neck. He looked to Corvo as he dragged the overseer onto the floor, on his side so he would be less like to asphyxiate if he lived.

“That’s the best I can do,” Daud said. He cast a loathing glance at the Overseer. “That antidote works on most poisons. He might make it, unlike that other fucker.”

Corvo turned to look at a heap of brocade he now recognized as Pendleton. There was that same mess caking his face where he lay face down, but the amount of blood pooling under him was too big. 

“Havelock slit his throat,” Corvo grunted. “The blood’s not even cooled. He’s somewhere here.”

As if on cue, there was a crash of breaking glass. The noises of the storm grew much louder, and then there was a sound that made Corvo’s heart almost stop: a wordless cry of a child.

“Emily!”

He was running before he knew what he was doing, only distantly aware of Daud following him. He quickly looked over the upper deck, but it was clear Havelock was outside; a glass door was broken and swinging wildly in the wind, and Corvo just caught a dark flash as it turned the corner.

“Shit,” he growled. He tried to brace himself against the wind, but the storm still almost knocked him over the second he stepped outside. A hand closed around his wrist.

“Careful! The gusts will pull you down!” Daud’s voice was barely audible over the howling wind and rain.

Corvo didn’t answer. He gripped the railing and started to climb the stairs, trying and failing not to imagine Havelock hauling a struggling Emily to the very top of the lighthouse. The storm leeched all warmth from his fingers and made them clumsy against the cold metal. His hair was escaping the leather cord and whipping his face. His heart was beating so fast he feared it might burst.

**_Corvo! There!_ **

Corvo’s breath got caught in his throat. A fear deeper than anything he’d felt before overcame him.

Havelock was standing at a ledge protruding from the staircase. With one hand he was gripping a railing to stay upright, coat snapping and billowing as he crushed Emily against his chest. She was crying, her hair plastered to her face. There was a purple bruise blooming on her cheek, but when her eyes landed on Corvo she almost smiled, stiff with dread.

“Corvo!” He barely heard her as he came to a stop. Havelock bared his teeth.

“You should have stayed dead, Corvo!” he roared over the wind. “It’s all over!”

“Let Emily go!” Corvo didn’t care that Havelock could hear how scared he was. He just had to get Emily away from the ledge. He didn’t even look down. He spared a glance behind himself; Daud had vanished.

Emily was trying to struggle, but Havelock’s arm was pressing her firmly against his body. She must have been crying, but the rain and the rolling thunder stole her tears and the desperate sounds. Corvo stood his ground as his mind rapidly flicked through his options. There was no time to make plans with Daud now, but if the assassin stopped time, like they’d discussed while on Samuel’s barge… Wherever Daud had gone, he was bound to be still near and waiting for an opening.

“I’m going to make sure there’s no happy ending,” Havelock shouted. “You wanted to be a hero in this, Corvo! You wanted to save your precious bastard daughter, save this rotten city before it burns itself to the ground!”

Corvo was burning with the need to go to Emily, but he forced himself to stay still. When their eyes met, Corvo tried to smile.

“It’s going to be alright,” he mouthed. Emily nodded.

Havelock sneered. He let go of the railing and reached for his belt.

“This will all go down in a mess of blood and flames, Corvo!”

He was quick, too quick. Before Corvo could move, Havelock flung a grenade towards him. Corvo saw it bounce on the metal grating, saw a flash of the ground so far below him, and then Havelock twisted towards the empty air, Emily’s scream piercing the storm like a frantic needle—

Corvo lunged towards the ledge. He had no idea what he was going to do, but then the magic hit him. It wasn’t a physical blow, but suddenly the entire reality was thick as molasses; vertigo made him stumble, and then there was a flash of red. Corvo tried to move, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated.

Time lurched forward as it released. Corvo saw the live grenade at his feet, turned towards the ledge, and the next second Daud crashed into him. 

_ “He won’t let either of you come to harm.”  _

Daud was holding Emily. That was all Corvo registered. 

Daud slammed Emily’s small body into Corvo’s as he pushed both of them back as hard as he could. Sheer reflex made Corvo grab Emily as he stumbled backwards and fell.

The moment his head hit the metal grating the grenade exploded. Corvo screwed his eyes shut, blind and deaf as he felt the scorching heat, trying to shelter Emily with his body. Splinters tore into his skin and he couldn’t breath, couldn’t do anything except wait for the searing pain.

It didn’t come.

Finally Corvo forced his eyes open. His ears were ringing so badly he barely heard the storm. He was bleeding and freezing cold. Emily was looking at him, her eyes huge and empty, blood and tears mixing in the rain that hit her face. Then her chest started to heave with sobs and Corvo almost collapsed with relief.

She was alive.

“Sir!” He barely heard the shout, but it managed to cut through the haze. It sounded like Galia. Corvo struggled to sit up, and then his heart froze. 

Thomas and Galia clambered down to the ledge, which was now a tangle of twisted, blackened metal. Daud was lying just at the edge of a gaping hole, face down and unmoving. His coat was shredded, and even in the pouring, lashing rain Corvo saw there was too much blood everywhere. A wordless shout rose from his throat.

_ Daud! DAUD! _

Thomas dragged Daud away from the edge just as Galia whipped out a belt. Corvo held onto Emily as she turned to look, too. 

Thomas’ fingers were at Daud’s throat. He was saying something to Galia, who wrapped the belt around Daud’s right leg and started to twist it into a tourniquet, to stop the steady bursts of blood—

Only then Corvo’s eyes finally took in the whole picture. Daud’s right leg was a carnage, and Galia’s gloves gleamed black-red as she struggled to wring the belt tight enough around a hardened bolt.

“Corvo—” Emily gasped. Corvo let her go and stumbled closer to Daud. He realized he was crying, but his hands were steady when he joined them with Galia’s. Together they tightened the tourniquet, until the horrifying gushes of blood slowed down to a trickle.

“Fucking idiot!” Thomas’s hands were shaking. “How many times did he drill into us not to kick a fucking grenade!"

Corvo let out a sound that was more of a sob than a laugh. Emily pressed closer to him, and Corvo wrapped his arm around her. His ears were ringing and Emily was still crying, and for a moment Corvo was at a loss.

Galia turned to him. “Go to the elevator. Tell Rulfio to come here and help us carry Daud.”

Corvo tried to imagine fighting their way through the island again. His face must have shown how helpless he felt, because Thomas managed a bleak smile. 

“Reinforcements are coming. Daud sent a message to the rest of us. They should be here by now, securing the place.”

Corvo sagged with relief. He made it to his feet, and when Emily wriggled herself down he just held her hand as they walked back into the building. As soon as they stepped inside, Rulfio came running up the stairs.

“I heard the explosion!” His dark eyes were horrified when he took in the state Corvo and Emily were in.

“Daud needs help,” Corvo rasped. He nudged his head towards the upper level, and Rulfio was gone in a pop of vacuum.

Corvo tried to steer Emily away from the bodies of Pendleton and Martin, but she stared at them with a grim expression. Martin’s eyes were open, and he watched them blearily from the floor. He was still breathing.

“Are they dead, Corvo?” Emily’s voice was faint through the ringing in Corvo’s ears.

“Martin might make it. Daud gave him an antidote when we came through here.” Then he realized what he’d said. Emily looked at him.

“Daud’s the man who killed Mommy.” Her face was screwed up with confusion, lip quivering. She had stopped crying. “But he  _ saved  _ me. I was falling, and suddenly he was there and I wasn’t!”

“I promise, I will tell you everything.” Corvo’s voice broke. 

He finally allowed himself to reach for the bond, but there was nothing. Just a confusing and dizzying nothing. He wanted to cry, but instead he sat Emily down in the warm bathroom and tried to will his hands to stop shaking.

He and Daud had mostly managed to shelter her from the shrapnels. There was the bruise on her face, but apart from a nasty cut near her ear she was almost unharmed. 

“Corvo, you’re bleeding,” she said quietly. She reached for a towel, and as Corvo cleaned and dressed her wound she carefully started to wipe away the blood from his neck and face. Corvo knew he must look like a dead man walking, but his mind was a jumble of worry.

There was a bigger cut on his arm as well. When he moved to bandage that one, Emily hopped down from the toilet and went to wash her hands. Once the water stopped running, she turned to look at Corvo, sitting on the bathroom floor. She was frowning furiously.

“You don’t want Daud to die.” 

Corvo’s breath got caught. He didn’t do a very good job at hiding the sob from Emily. 

“No,” he finally rasped. His head was swimming with fear.

Emily nodded and chewed her lip. Corvo went on bandaging his arm, and a moment later Emily joined him on the floor. She sat down and leaned against his side.

“I hope he makes it. Enough people have died.”

Corvo couldn’t stop the next sob from escaping.

*

“He saved me,” Emily repeated much later. Corvo had almost nodded off, but he shook his head to clear it. The storm had died down, and now there was just the sound of rain as it pattered against the roof of the barge they were in.

They were going back to the Tower.

Daud’s preparations had been much more comprehensive than Corvo had expected. Within an hour the whole Kingsparrow Island had been locked down, and wherever Corvo had looked, maskless Whalers had been standing guard. He’d tried to keep Emily from seeing them, but she’d regained her composure much better than him.

_ “Corvo, I am not five. I can see they’re helping us, now let me walk on my own!” _

It was so much like Jessamine, Corvo thought. Then he realized Emily had actually spoken aloud.

“Yes,” Corvo said. He looked at the floor of the barge. Once again his mind replayed the image of Havelock and Emily falling, and Daud transversing past Corvo and into a freefall.

The first Whalers had whisked Daud away to their own medic. Then there had been a unit of the City Watch approaching them, informing Corvo that the Watch would defer to the authority of the rightful empress again. Corvo had managed to choke out orders to get them back to the mainland. As they waited for a boat,Thomas, Galia, and Rulfio flitted back and forth, bringing him information.

The City Watch was back under control.

Three major noble houses had immediately declared their support for Emily, and their private guards were patrolling the streets back in Dunwall, along with the loyal parts of the Watch. The Dunwall Tower had been secured. The Tower Guard had largely not agreed with Havelock, and the majority of them had been locked away during the few days he’d been in power.

“We will send someone to check on them. It’s a risk to let them out, but you’ll need all the loyal men you can get,” Rulfio said. Corvo just nodded.

Anton Sokolov and Piero Joplin were at the Tower, waiting for them. Corvo had pulled Thomas aside, and told him to take Daud to the Tower.

“Sir?” Thomas’ eyes had boggled. 

“Sokolov’s an ally. If anyone can save him, he can.” Corvo had felt Emily’s eyes on him as he forced the words out.

Emily shuffled closer and leaned against his uninjured side.

“Why were you together with Daud, Corvo?” 

Corvo wrapped his right arm around her. His left arm was in a sling and wrapped in heavy bandages. He must have lost quite a lot of blood, because his head felt simultaneously light and stuffy. He was soaked to the bone, the Whaler coat clinging to his back.

“He…” Corvo had to swallow a few times. “He made a mistake. He regretted what he did. So he offered to help me when I was poisoned.”

Corvo knew that soon he would have to give Emily a better, more comprehensive explanation. Her eyes grew cloudy as she blinked away tears, but then she sighed.

“You trust him.”

Corvo didn’t want to answer. He didn’t know whether he trusted Daud, but he  _ loved _ him. He’d loved Daud for such a long time. He knew it was true, and he was seconds away from breaking down because Daud might die; they had gotten the tiniest taste of being together, and Corvo feared his body would crumble to dust.

Emily didn’t say anything else. She took his hand and they sat in silence the rest of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Probability of the Sparrow_ by Rodney Gomez**
> 
> The body wicks  
> away its nest, leaves
> 
> sediment. In salt  
> the silhouette of a wolf
> 
> or a sheepshead. Who  
> knows who steals bones
> 
> if not the connoisseur  
> of bones, and who drops
> 
> a crank behind the body  
> if not the one who drains
> 
> the river bed? In unrest,  
> buzzards. Or a flat
> 
> line. The probability  
> of sparrows a spark
> 
> between two enemy pistons.  
> A dirigible built
> 
> solely for the grave.
> 
> *
> 
> As you might have noticed, the first three chapter names all have a bird theme. The titles were initially just Kingfisher, Raven, and Sparrow, but in the end I decided to change that.


	4. In the mist of that later telling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Just in time before the year ends. :D
> 
> Beta by my favorite possum [Kiko](https://twitter.com/ConAffettoKiko). <3
> 
> Chapter title from the poem _Naming the Stars_ by Joyce Sutphen.

Daud woke up, and only the decades of stealth under his belt prevented him from crying out. He didn’t even know which part of his body was hurting the most, because it all mixed together in a chaotic way he couldn’t understand immediately. He took deep breaths as cold sweat broke out, until his heart calmed enough for him to think. It was still almost unbearable; the dull, grating agony of broken bones combined with wound pain, sharp and bright.

He was in a room with a high ceiling. Everything was austere white, with a few tall windows on the wall opposite from the bed he was in. Daud turned his head and confirmed what he’d sensed; there was no one else in the room, but right outside there was someone standing guard. They had a sword at their hip, and the shape of their clothing looked familiar even when seen through his Void gaze.

_ Tower Guard,  _ Daud thought. He looked at the windows again, and saw only the light blue sky of an early afternoon. He was in the Dunwall Tower.

A familiar humming registered, and Daud closed his eyes to listen. Then he reached a hand under his pillow and pulled out a bonecharm. He stared at the blackened, chipped bone as the charm sizzled and hummed on. The sound was almost comforting.

If he was at the Tower and kept as a prisoner, why in the Void would they leave him with a healing bonecharm?

Daud looked around and his certainty eroded. He was not cuffed to the bed. The windows were latched, but from the inside. And there were no Overseers with those cursed music boxes anywhere his Void gaze could reach.

Daud struggled into a sitting position, and as agony tore through his right leg, he finally felt it. Or, _ didn’t _ feel.

He flung the covers away, praying to any god that would listen. He was wearing what looked like hospital-issued cotton shorts, and both of his legs were covered in bandages. His left foot twitched. 

His right foot was gone. There was just a stump below his right knee. 

A low, pained sound welled up in Daud’s throat. It trickled out, sounding deafening in the empty room. To his horror, Daud felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He rubbed a hand over them in angry, jerky motions. Then he very carefully ran his fingers down his leg. Pain ricocheted through the limb, and Daud withdrew his hand. He let himself collapse back on his back.

Memories were returning. The lighthouse. Howling winds that wanted to drag Daud over the ledge. Havelock and Emily. 

He’d transversed to the beam above them. Corvo had been so focused on Emily he had not noticed, and that alone had most likely kept Havelock from jumping right away; the admiral had thought Corvo had come alone. Daud remembered tethering himself to the beam with his Mark, because the wind was so strong.

He’d been too slow. Havelock throwing a grenade at Corvo had made Daud’s brain stutter with fear, and then instinct had taken over. Daud had forgotten about Thomas and Galia. He’d pushed all of his power into stopping time before driving himself to perform the most insane transversal he could ever remember attempting.

Havelock and Emily had been frozen mid-air. Daud had crashed into them, wrenched the girl free, and then aimed at the ledge just in time; his feet had barely hit the metal grating when time lurched, and then Daud had practically thrown Emily at Corvo, pushing with his powers to get them away from the grenade. After that, nothing.

He didn’t know how long he stared at the ceiling, but the sound of the door opening drew him back. Daud turned his head, noted with confusion that the door hadn’t even been locked, and then met the eyes of a stern-looking nurse. She was around forty, and had the tell-tale warm brown skin of a native Serkonan.

“You’re awake. Good.” She strode over to him, and Daud blinked. “I will give you something for the pain, and the doctor will come see you soon.”

He was so taken aback by the nurse not being afraid of him that he almost missed it when a familiar face peeked into the room.

“Sir!”

Daud thought he was having a very vivid hallucination. Surely there was no other reason for Rulfio to be standing next to his bed, wearing a Tower Guard uniform?

“Good to see you’re still kicking,” Rulfio said with an obviously relieved grin, his eyes flicking to his missing limb and back to his face. Daud glared at him, and the man laughed. He noticed how Daud looked at the clothes he was wearing. 

“The Lord Protector insisted on this,” he said with a shrug. “He said we couldn’t very well wear our own clothes here.”

“‘We?’” Daud echoed. He was feeling more and more confused.

“Galia, me, and a few others have been stationed in the Tower for now. By the order of the empress, no less.” Rulfio saw his empty stare. “I expect someone will come by and explain everything that has happened in the past three days.”

“I hope so,” Daud rasped. Void, but he needed a smoke.

A few minutes passed with the nurse checking his bandages and glaring at Daud whenever he so much as shifted, and then the door opened again. Anton Sokolov met Daud’s eye with a knowing smile.

“Leave us,” he grunted to Rulfio and the nurse. The door clicked shut, and Daud resigned to his fate. He’d never met Sokolov before this mess, but the idea of being left at his mercy held little appeal. Daud tried very hard not to think that he’d been unconscious in the same room with the man.

“You very nearly bled to death,” Sokolov said with no preamble. He prodded the stump, and Daud had to bite back the curse as pain shot through it. The physician just smiled.

“Had the Lord Protector not insisted you were brought here, you would have died. If not from the blood loss, then sepsis.”

Daud remained silent. If Sokolov wanted praise for saving his hide, he could grow old waiting for it. 

“There was nothing to be done about your foot. The grenade went off too close to you. You’re exceedingly lucky for not losing the left one as well.”

“Lucky.” Daud’s voice was flat. 

“Yes.” Sokolov picked up his chart. “You’ve been unconscious for two and a half days. I expect you will make full recovery, and then—”

The door opened without a knock, and Daud forgot about the pain as he scrambled into a sitting position. Emily Kaldwin walked into the room, flanked by two guards with grim faces. Neither of them looked familiar. The young empress had a healing gash on her face, but otherwise she looked unharmed.

“Your majesty,” Sokolov said with a smile and a bow. “I was just informing our master assassin that he can expect to make a full recovery.”

“Good.” Emily’s voice was steady. Her eyes flicked to Daud and then back to Sokolov. “Leave us.”

“Are you certain? You know who this man is,” Sokolov asked. His dark, predatory eyes bore on Daud, who was trying to find a position where everything wouldn’t hurt so much he felt on the verge of passing out.

“I’m perfectly safe here, thank you.” Emily looked Daud straight in the eye when she said it. Daud just nodded in response, and Sokolov bowed himself out of the room. The guards positioned themselves at the door, faces stony and eyes never leaving Daud.

Emily Kaldwin walked closer. She was tall for her age, and with Daud sitting up their eyes were almost at level with each other. She looked at Daud for a while. There was no trace of the alarmed girl Daud had kidnapped from the gazebo seven months ago.

“You’re Daud. The leader of the Whalers.”

“Yes. Your majesty.” Daud’s throat was dry, but that wasn’t the reason his voice came out all wrong, cracking at the last word.

This was the girl whose mother he had killed in front of her eyes. Daud had thought his guilt was crushing before, but like most things in his life, he was finding it could always get worse.

“Corvo told me about you,” Emily Kaldwin said. Her eyes narrowed. “He told me you were behind my mother’s assassination, and that your Whalers had been working for Hiram Burrows even before that.”

“That’s true.” Daud wanted to look away. He wanted to  _ wither _ away, just cease to be. He’d fucked up so many times, but nothing could compare to this.

Emily sighed. “Corvo also told me that you have been helping him. He said you regret what you did, and wanted to fix things.”

“That’s true, but—”

“Don’t interrupt me.” Emily crossed her arms. “You saved both of us at the Kingsparrow lighthouse. First you saved me from falling. Then you lost your right foot while making sure Corvo and I got away from that grenade.”

“How is he?” Daud blurted out. His neck grew hot and he finally averted his gaze. “If I may ask, your majesty.”

He felt Emily scrutinize him. “He is fine. There was a deep cut to his left arm that did some damage, but nothing that won’t heal.” Daud heard the relief lurking in her tones, and he sagged against the bed frame. It felt too good to be true. Corvo was alive. The knowledge seeped through him, and finally he could breathe a little easier. 

Emily watched him closely. “I have also been informed of what you have been doing apart from helping Corvo. You have my thanks for your actions, because they ensured we could take back the Tower with minimal violence.”

Daud briefly wondered who had taught Emily to talk like that. Not Corvo, that was certain. 

“My resources are all yours,” Daud said. He exhaled. “I have extensive material on most major and minor noble houses of Gristol. I trust my second in command has been cooperating with you and Cor— Lord Attano, but there are files only I have access to. All of those will be yours.”

“Good.” Emily’s lips twitched into a sly smile. She let him stew in his discomfort for much longer than Daud had expected a ten year old to be capable of. “I also expect that your full services will be available to me, as soon as Anton Sokolov deems you fit to leave your bed.”

Daud took a few seconds to confirm he had not started hallucinating. Again.

“Your majesty?”

Emily’s smile vanished. She tilted her head. “I will appoint you as my Royal Spymaster. I wish to keep the Whalers working for me, and I will need your expertise if I’m to keep my throne. Or my head,” she added, leveling Daud with a hard look.

“Do not think that I trust you, or have forgiven you,” she added before Daud could even begin to formulate an answer. These words came tinged with anger and sadness, but Emily kept her composure. “But Corvo vouches for you. If you betray me, you will have to betray him first.”

Daud’s tongue finally unstuck itself. 

“I promise I will never betray either of you,” he choked out. “I promise I will do my best.”

“We’ll see how much your word is worth, Daud.” Emily looked at him with a faint frown. Then she nodded her head, apparently satisfied, and left the room without another word. What little strength Daud had held onto escaped him, and he collapsed back into the bed. 

The day passed in a haze. The brusque nurse came back an hour or so after Emily had left. Daud learned that her name was Mafalda and that she knew exactly who Daud was. She had a glare to match his own, and Daud accepted his defeat in the fight whether he would be allowed to leave his bed to have lunch. 

Mafalda gave him a shot of something that made his brain grow foggy. Daud almost complained about it, but it dulled the pain that had been crossing over from unpleasant to excruciating. He fell asleep before he could think of a proper way to argue his point. His dreams were hazy, until suddenly there was the sense of falling, followed by the familiar cold of the Void.

As his head cleared, Daud looked around. He hadn’t been to the Void by himself since the Outsider had tasked him with finding Delilah. That felt like half a lifetime ago. The Void looked exactly the same, with islands of rocks and buildings floating among the blue mists and dead-eyed whales. The only difference was that instead of the gazebo, he was standing at what looked like the top of the Kingsparrow Lighthouse.

Daud realized he was  _ standing. _ He looked down, not knowing what to expect, but there was just a misty outline of his right foot. There was no feeling to it.

“Anton Sokolov will build you a new limb,” came the familiar voice. Daud sighed as he straightened up.

“Knowing him, he’ll make it either ugly or unwieldy.”

The Outsider tutted. “That would insult his own genius. You know that.”

Daud rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

The Outsider materialized in front of him. Daud didn’t flinch, but he knew he’d never grow used to the Leviathan standing too close to him. How Corvo tolerated the bastard touching him was beyond Daud.

“You did become interesting again,” the god said. “And it only took a nudge.”

Daud crossed his arms. Even with the Outsider floating in the air, Daud was taller than him. “Are you saying you pushed us into this? Me and Corvo?”

The Outsider shook his head. He smiled. “Not at all. You chose to kill the empress, and that action pulled you and Corvo into the same storyline after you spent such a long time apart. It was fascinating to watch you navigate that.”

Daud snorted. He tried to beat his ire back. “I fucked up. I’d still take that back if I could. Find some other way to deal with Burrows, even if—”

“Even if it would mean you and Corvo never got to be together, yes.” The Outsider leaned closer. “Except now you’re not so sure anymore.”

Daud stared back and refused to answer. 

“Now that you have him, you’re not sure you could ever give him up. You’re wondering how you found the will to drive him away in the past, when he’s the best thing you’ve ever known.”

“Fuck you.” Daud wanted to hit the god, but instead he rubbed his eyes. The Outsider’s mouth quirked up.

“Now you’re wondering how you will make amends. The young empress has barely appointed you as her Royal Spymaster, and your head is already awhirl with plans and contingencies, all of them focusing on keeping her safe. Your loyalty is easily won, is it not?”

Again, Daud stayed quiet. He’d learned long ago that the Outsider would say what he wished, and the fastest way to deal with him was for Daud to shut his trap and listen. He could always hit something later. What were a few split knuckles on top of all other injuries?

“After you and Corvo crashed back together, you changed.” Now the Outsider actually looked intrigued. “From the second you saw Corvo Attano in the flesh, you knew you could never walk away from him. All of your actions taken after killing Jessamine Kaldwin have had that singular focus.”

Daud’s throat grew tight. He finally looked away.

“It makes me wonder whether you had always known it would go like this. Was that the reason you insisted on not meeting, even after Corvo arrived to Dunwall?”

The Outsider went quiet. Daud briefly considered not answering, but he knew which one of them was an undead god with thousands of years of sheer waiting under his belt. He shifted his feet, trying to ignore the uncanny feeling of his right foot not being there.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “First I thought the bond would die away if I kept it locked down.”

“But then Corvo found a way in.”

Daud shrugged. “I couldn’t push him out. So I figured we’d have that. It’s not like we could ever be together, not like he was hoping, and…” he trailed off. Unease was making his gut tight. He wished he could have reached for Corvo before the black-eyed bastard pulled him into the Void.

“You think your past damaged you beyond repair.” The Outsider didn’t sound like was making a judgement either way. “You dislike almost all forms of intimacy other humans covet. Corvo is the only one to truly turn your head, but you’re uncertain whether it could ever work. Whether you should give in to this, after all these years.”

Daud glared at him. Void, but he hated these heart-to-hearts. 

“I should never have had a fucking soulmate because I am broken.” He scoffed. “That’s hardly the biggest problem with me and Corvo being an awful match.”

“But that’s just it,” the Outsider grinned. “You are the perfect match for each other. There is no grand scheme behind it all, but  _ something _ decided you two complete each other. During these months you’ve started to yield to that.”

“Doesn’t mean it’ll all work out nice and dandy.” Daud pinched the bridge of his nose. This was simultaneously like explaining birds and bees to a toddler and trying to outwit an ancient god. “We’re both men, and the Abbey has some very loud opinions about that. I’m also a wanted criminal who has just been turned into the Royal Spymaster, and that’s all before we even get to the fact that I killed the woman Corvo loved.” He was almost out of breath when he finished.

The Outsider looked like he had hardly been listening. “You’ve always been ready with excuses as to why you can’t be with Corvo. Yet when he fell in love with someone else you considered finding him. Did you ever acknowledge that moment?”

Daud turned away. He took a shaky breath. The memory was fourteen years in the past, yet it still hurt. 

He had considered it. Not consciously; when he’d felt Corvo’s heart opening up to someone else, he’d been torn between congratulating himself on proving his fears right and finding his soulmate there and then to ensure he didn’t slip away. 

He was so fucking tired. He’d spent thirty years trying to deny the bond, and now it was within reach and he was still stalling—if only to prove a point to a god who didn’t care a fig about his so-called reasons. He wanted to stop fighting and admit he’d lost this battle the second he’d heard Corvo’s true voice inside his head.

“It would be a shame if you threw all you worked for away.” The Outsider was standing at his back again. A cold hand ran through his hair and Daud was too exhausted to shrug it away. 

“You have proven time and again that impossible is not a word you have a taste for.”

Daud closed his eyes as the Void started to flake and crumble around him. The last thing he heard was the Outsider chuckling, and then real sleep claimed him again.

*

_ Daud? _

Wakefulness was slow to come. The bed was soft and the morning light was only just peeking through the curtains.

_ I can feel you’re awake. _

**_...Corvo?_ **

A tired chuckle.  _ Who else? _

Daud opened his eyes. He had to remind himself he was not a prisoner when he saw he was still in the Dunwall Tower hospital. The feeling must have registered on Corvo’s end.

_ I came to see you yesterday, but you were asleep. The nurse told me you were not to be disturbed. _

**_That hag._ **

Daud could feel Corvo shake with laughter. It felt like he was trying to be quiet, and Daud didn’t have to guess where the Royal Protector had spent his night. 

**_I’m glad you’re alright._ **

Daud let his relief slink into the bond. He was tired of hiding anything from Corvo. It had only done damage in the past; Daud felt like he owed it to Corvo to show his hand.

_ Same here. I expect Thomas will have a few choice words for you later today. He wasn’t exactly impressed when you prevented him and Galia from helping out. _

Daud snorted and immediately winced as pain zigzagged through his leg. It made him glance at the stump hidden under the covers. His mouth twisted into a gloomy smile. 

**_I panicked. Simple as that. I couldn’t let anything happen to you or the girl._ **

It should have felt vaguely embarrassing to admit that the Knife of Dunwall had momentarily forgotten every careful plan and acted on pure horror-fueled instinct. Daud just felt it served him right.

There was a long silence on Corvo’s end. When he spoke again, his voice was very small.

_ She said that you wouldn’t let either of us come to harm. _

It only took Daud a moment to understand. He closed his eyes as he did. He had a distant memory of the second before the grenade exploded; the eerie female voice had whispered something to him.

**_I owe you that. Both of you._ ** His voice broke at the words. 

**_I know I said this before, but I’m sorry._ ** Daud realized his eyes were prickling with tears and he rubbed his palm over them. He knew he was alone in his room, but inside his head he was not.  **_I’m so sorry._ **

He felt Corvo cover his mouth so as not to wake Emily. A sob rocked his body, and Daud wished he could have held Corvo.

_ I know. _

Daud lost track of time. At some point Corvo’s presence pulled back, and almost immediately after that Mafalda entered his room with a tray of breakfast and a sullen challenge in her gaze. When Daud didn’t even try to get up from the bed she checked his temperature before leaving the room, muttering something about grown men and their stupid heads.

Daud forced himself to eat properly. He knew he would be confined to the bed for quite some time, but the idea of sitting still made his bones itch. He needed to do something.

Daud called for Thomas through the arcane bond when the boredom reached critical levels; he could wither alone, or subject himself to the inevitable yelling and maybe get some of his notes delivered here. His second in command appeared with a thunderous expression on his face. Daud saw he at least was still wearing the Whaler uniform.

Thomas opened his mouth and Daud raised his hands.

“I know you’re pissed at me. And I want to say I’m sorry.”

Thomas halted mid-step from his stalk towards the bed and closed his mouth. He took a very deep breath.

“Do you have any idea how it felt to feel the bond fading?” He blinked furiously, hands clenched into fists. “We had to climb down to the ledge because it almost died away, while watching you bleed out. ”

Daud looked down, his sure footing lost. He had known Thomas was upset, but it hadn’t fully registered until now that the man had been scared of losing  _ him _ . He heard Thomas take another deep breath, and distantly wondered whether Rulfio was still standing guard outside his room. Maybe Daud should have called him in too. Get it all out in one go.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Daud. Did finding your soulmate melt your brain or something?”

Daud’s head snapped up. A cold rush of dread went through him, but Thomas didn’t look any more or less angry than before. He was still glaring at Daud.

_ Daud? What is it? _

Daud realized his alarm must have bled over to Corvo. 

**_It’s, uh. Thomas came by. He’s not happy with me. Nothing’s wrong._ **

_ Tell that to Thomas,  _ Corvo muttered.  _ I’ll come by later, provided he doesn’t finish what the grenade started. _

Daud didn’t have any time to process the knowledge that he’d see Corvo later, because Thomas let out a bark of exasperated laughter. He whirled around and ran a hand through his hair.

“Void! You’re smitten!”

Daud opened his mouth to argue, but Thomas turned to face him again and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You’re also complete  _ shit  _ at hiding you’re talking to someone in your head.”

“What?” Daud blinked.

“We’ve known for  _ months _ there is someone you talk to!” Thomas actually threw his hands up at that. He looked torn between crying and laughing. “It’s so fucking obvious, and you’ve got to learn how to hide it or else the whole damn Abbey will be after you and Att—”

“Yes, thank you,” Daud cut in, casting a worried glance towards the door. “Point taken.”

“I sure fucking hope so,” Thomas muttered. He sank into a chair and rubbed his face. 

“What do you mean by ‘we?’” Daud asked when it looked like Thomas was done shouting. The man rolled his eyes.

“Me and Rulfio. We’re the only ones with thoughtbounds in the Whalers. Galia might’ve guessed while we were at Kingsparrow, what with you and Attano looking at each other like you were both  _ starving. _ ”

It was...way too much information to take in at once. Daud’s medicated brain zoomed in on the least relevant bit.

“You have a thoughtbound?”

Thomas just nodded. Then he shrugged. “I’ve had the connection for thirty years.”

Daud took a moment to appreciate that Thomas had managed to completely hide this fact from him. “Who is it?”

“None of your damn business,” Thomas said. He was clearly still angry. “None of the Whalers, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Daud nodded. He knew he had no right to pry. “If you...wanna leave the gang to be with them, I understand,” he said instead. 

Daud didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was not Thomas looking at him like he was some greater variety of pathetic.

“Do you think I would’ve stayed a second if I wasn’t happy?” Thomas snorted. “The arcane bond is amazing, but your company’s not  _ that  _ great. Full offence.”

“Right.” Daud knew he was completely lost. Thomas glared at him some more and then apparently took pity.

“I don’t care about the love or sex bits, since you’re too dense to ask. Never have. So I don’t feel a burning need to get married either.” He made a vague gesture. “I know some folks find it hard to believe, but I’ve never been in love and that suits me just fine. My soulmate is the same, and that’s all you’re gonna hear about her.”

The words still had a bite, but there was an understanding of sorts lurking in Thomas’ gaze. Daud knew his men were most likely dying of curiosity by now, because it was exactly like he’d told Corvo; Daud wasn’t in the habit of taking lovers. His closest—friends knew why that was.

“Fine,” Daud coughed. “Point taken, again. Do you want to yell at me some more, or should we get to work?”

Thomas’ face brightened a little. He crossed his arms, gloves creaking as he did. “I heard the news. Spymaster sounds a bit fancier than assassin, I’ll give you that.”

Daud rolled his eyes. He knew there was no going back to the stiff relationship he’d shared with his lieutenant in the past. For some reason the thought felt refreshing.

“I’m gonna need my notes here,” Daud said instead of lamenting the fact that Thomas no longer feared him. “It’d be best to get everything from the base. I don’t think I’ll be going back there for a while.”

“Aye.” Thomas scratched at his unshaven cheek. “I’ll get people on it. What do I tell everyone?”

Daud sighed. He had known the question was coming.

“I’m going to be working for the empress from now on,” he said in a serious tone. “Anyone who doesn’t want to take her side’s gotta go.”

Thomas nodded. He didn’t look even remotely as worried as Daud felt.

“Galia, Rulfio, and Rinaldo are already working at the Tower. I think the empress wants to employ some of us as her personal guards. In the future.”

“Once she knows she can trust us,” Daud translated. 

Thomas nodded again. “Well, it’s sure going to be different,” he remarked. A tired smile tugged at his lips. “How’d you put it when I joined? Danger at every corner, no two days alike?”

“Something like that,” Daud muttered. He’d had a flair for drama when he’d been younger.

Thomas smirked at him. “It’s good to have you back.” He got to his feet and then he was gone. Daud was left staring at the spot where Thomas had been standing. 

*

Corvo and Thomas had coordinated their efforts behind Daud’s back. By the same afternoon most of Daud’s office had been relocated to the Tower, and some of the Whalers were free to come and go, provided they weren’t wearing their masks. It was a small group, and Daud was proud to see that Thomas had vetted them almost exactly as he would; all of them had been present when the Overseers had attacked them. They were the ones that Daud could trust.

Daud started by going over the old assault plans. He looked them through with a detached eye, this time from the angle of preventing such an attack. He knew he had a mountain of work before him, but it felt good; like old times, except now he was turning a new leaf.

There was a brisk knock on the door immediately after noon. Daud tried to find a dignified position on the bed as the door swung open, but it was hard; his left leg was hurting and the stump was a knot of dull, searing ache.

At the door stood a City Watch officer with a woman who looked to belong to the Tower Guard. Both of them looked at Daud with thinly-veiled hostility and wariness. There was a moment of stifling silence, and then the City Watch officer stepped into the room with a weary sigh.

“And here I thought things couldn’t get any more weird.” He had dark hair and the air of a man who had been through more than he thought he could stand. It was a familiar look in Dunwall these days.

“I’m Captain Curnow,” he went on. “Lord Attano requested my presence at the Tower.” He looked like he wasn’t exactly sure why, but the Tower Guard officer waved her hand. There was major’s insignia embroidered into her uniform.

“At this point Lord Protector needs loyal men. Rank comes second if he sees you’re useful.” She looked at Daud again. “As is evident.”

Daud didn’t say anything. The woman measured him with the same cold eyes. She was around forty and looked fit and strong, unlike most high-ranking officers. She had blue eyes and light brown hair twisted into a practical bun. 

Before any of them could say more, the door opened again. A shudder went through Daud when Corvo entered the room. Emily Kaldwin walked in after him, engrossed in a discussion with Galia Fleet.

Daud forced himself to look anywhere else but at Corvo. He still felt the bond settle over him like a blanket; relief and longing. When he stole a glance, he saw Corvo was watching Emily and Galia, but there was the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

“Thank you,” Emily said to Galia. “I would like to test that theory later. Pick two Whalers for the task. We can get back to this tomorrow.” She sounded satisfied, and Daud saw she wasn’t showing any fear when meeting Galia’s eye.

Galia saluted Emily and vanished with a pop. Both Captain Curnow and the Tower Guard officer flinched, but the empress ignored them. She turned to look at Daud.

“Now then. Thank you for taking the time to come here.” She gave Curnow and the woman a polite smile and nodded towards the chairs. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Daud pulled his head fully to the present moment. He could still feel the glares, but he ignored them in favor of meeting Emily’s eye. 

“Your Majesty. I’ve had my men bring my notes and materials here. Whenever you have the time, I have some proposals on how your security could be improved.” 

A ripple of surprise passed through the bond. Daud didn’t probe, but it was clear Corvo had not expected him to be capable of such formal speech.

Emily Kaldwin nodded. “Rinaldo Escobar and Galia Fleet have been transferred to the Tower Guard. Your lieutenant vouched for their trustworthiness. If they prove themselves, I would like to employ them as my personal defence.”

Daud nodded, surprised. He turned to look at Corvo, who cleared his throat.

“The position of the Royal Protector is a relic from another time. There is no reason to trust the empress’ life on one person only.” He met Emily’s gaze solemnly. “I will remain Lord Protector, but the nature of my job will change.”

Emily turned towards Curnow and the major. “Captain Curnow. I’m sure you’re aware that your niece Callista was helping Corvo and I during the...interregnum.”

Curnow nodded. His eyes were pained. “Your majesty, how is she? I haven’t had time to find her, what with the whole Watch being swamped.”

“She is safe and will remain in my service,” Emily explained. “She is loyal. You have her to thank for your life, along with Lord Attano.”

Curnow frowned and then suddenly paled. His eyes flicked to Corvo, who sighed. 

“It was  _ you. _ ” Curnow looked torn between relief and terror. “I went to see the High Overseer and woke up in a dumpster outside of Holger’s Square!”

Daud raised an eyebrow and watched as Corvo bit his lip. He looked like he wanted to laugh.

“My apologies, captain,” Corvo finally said. “I was short on time that night.”

The Tower Guard officer snorted and then coughed. Her eyes were laughing as she looked at Corvo, and Daud guessed the woman knew him well.

“In any case,” Emily said, hiding her own smile, “I have heard good things about you, captain. You will be promoted to the rank of major and tasked with the unfortunate mission of reorganizing the City Watch.” She turned to look at Corvo, who nodded.

“The Lower Guard is a problem. I’ve seen the kind of men they recruit, and I want that to cease. It’s better to have a few less men if they can be trusted not to kill civilians.”

Curnow blinked rapidly and then resurfaced from his shock. “I agree. I promise I will do my best.”

“You will need to cooperate with the new Spymaster,” Corvo went on. “He is well-versed with the criminal underworld of Dunwall, and has promised to lend his full expertise.”

Curnow looked at Daud with more confidence now. The man narrowed his eyes, but before he could speak the Tower Guard officer spoke.

“Pardon me, your majesty, Lord Protector. I can’t help but feel appointing Daud of the Whalers as Spymaster is a grave mistake.” Her voice was steady and she met Daud’s eyes.

Emily turned to her. “Major Westward, the reason I summoned you here is because you are never afraid to speak your mind. Please continue doing so. You, too, will be promoted. We need someone like you leading the Tower Guard.”

Westward pursed her lips as she glared at Daud. “I take this means I will be working very closely with master Daud.”

“Indeed.” Emily smiled. It was a thin, cold expression, out of place on her young face. Daud inclined his head to her. 

“I know none of you have any reason to trust me.” Westward and Curnow turned to stare at him, clearly surprised. Daud indicated the papers spread across the bed. 

“I could make promises of loyalty and waste all of our time. I won’t insult any of you like that. I’ll get to work, and if I someday earn your trust, so be it. But it’s a good thing that the Spymaster isn’t universally trusted. Hiram Burrows managed to overthrow empress Jessamine Kaldwin because he wasn’t watched closely enough. And it was my hand that held the knife.”

Daud paused, meeting each of their eyes one by one. “I killed the empress. I make no excuses for what I did, but it is something I will regret for the rest of my days. And I will serve my penance by ensuring that Emily Kaldwin comes to no harm.”

The silence that followed was awkward. Then Corvo nodded once. He looked at Daud for a long while. The bond was muted, but Daud recognized weary acceptance in it. He didn’t reach back.

“Your Majesty,” Corvo said, “I will coordinate the watch rotations so that the former Whalers are positioned into older units.”

“How do you expect to deal with the Abbey?” Westward put in. She nodded towards Daud’s uncovered left hand. “Master Daud is a known heretic.”

Corvo gave her an appreciative smile. “Naturally we will deny everything. The city has been ripe with legends and rumors for the past decade.”

Westward didn’t look convinced. Corvo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black book. “This is the black book of the former high overseer.”

Westward’s mouth fell open. Daud realized his own had done the same. Corvo looked almost smug as he faced them.

“We have the key to decode all of it. At the moment the Abbey lacks a high overseer, and I will personally ensure that whoever takes the position will work with us.” His eyes grew dark. “The Ascending Circle will call the Feast of Painted Kettles any day now.

“Teague Martin is still alive. It’s uncertain whether he will live through the poison, but should he do so, I will pay him a visit. He will serve his life sentence in Coldridge, but the quality of his punishment depends on whether he will be cooperative.”

Daud suppressed a shiver. Corvo turned to the empress. “That should be all for now.”

Emily got to her feet. Westward was the only one to stall.

“I have a matter to discuss with the Spymaster,” she just said when Curnow and Corvo glanced at her. Once they were alone, Westward sat down again. 

“As I already impressed upon you, I don’t trust you further than I can spit.” Her voice was neutral, and Daud relaxed against the headboard. His stump was throbbing with pain again.

“I know. You have no reason to.”

Westward narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. “I’m sure you could read between the lines of what the empress and Lord Attano just said. I will run the Tower Guard once the paperwork is done.”

“And that means the two of us need to work together,” Daud completed the sentence. “I will have my second deliver you the old plans we used when we attacked the tower. Those are not security gaps all men would be able to exploit, but they should be addressed.”

Westward looked at him for a moment and then crossed her arms. “The fellow named Thomas, right? He wasn’t happy to discard the mask.”

Daud snorted. “I expect not, but there’s a reason for that. He won’t be working at the Tower, because I’ll need someone to run things on the outside.”

Westward’s expression turned thoughtful. “Master Daud. I’m from Dunwall. I was born and raised here. I’m familiar with all the rumors surrounding you and your gang. So tell me: is it true that you are marked by the Outsider?”

Daud considered her for a moment. Then he lifted his left hand. He hadn’t gone without gloves for decades, and having his hands bare made him feel naked.

Westward looked at the symbol in silence. Then she nodded.

“We will talk more once you’re released from the hospital. I expect we will get to know each other extremely well.”

*

Daud woke up when a cold draft blew through the room. He suppressed the impulse to reach for weapons he knew weren’t there and instead remained perfectly still, extending his senses. It was clearly hours after midnight. Then he recognized the figure crouching by the open window.

His eyes flew open just as Corvo nudged the window closed. He shook back his hood, and against the cloudy night sky he looked once more like an assassin. He had replaced the Whaler coat with a familiar-looking one, and his hair and beard were once more neat. There were deep shadows around his eyes.

“Corvo,” Daud breathed. 

Corvo's schedule had allowed Daud to hide, put aside the niggling questions as to their bond. Their conversation before Kingsparrow seemed like a far-off dream, and Daud was loathe to try and bring it into reality. There was every possibility that Corvo would want nothing to do with Daud, not after what he’d put the Royal Protector through.

They looked at each other in silence. Daud half-expected to hear the eerie, distant whispers again. They had been coming from Corvo, but the voice had been female, spinning out tangles of buried truths. 

Corvo’s eyes moved away from Daud’s face. They slipped down, until they came to a stop at his foot, at the tell-tale hollow where the blanket covered the stump. He’d carefully avoided looking at it earlier. Daud looked away.

Corvo’s footsteps were soft against the stone floor. The bed dipped as he sat down, and then a warm hand covered Daud’s slack one.

_ Hi.  _ Corvo looked oddly helpless. Daud waited for a few seconds and then gripped Corvo’s hand gently. He wanted to drag the man close and press kisses into his hair, but the uncertainty was stifling.

**_I missed you._ ** Daud grimaced as the thought slipped free. Corvo nodded and shuffled closer. He smelled so good, and his body heat was making Daud’s heart come alive with need and want.

_ I wanted to give you time. And I’ve been so busy.  _ Corvo huffed a laugh.  _ That’s to say, I didn’t know— _

He kept stealing glances at Daud’s missing foot, and his words guttered out as Daud pressed his rough fingers against his face to stop the fidgeting.

_ I’m sorry. I asked Sokolov to help you— _

Daud quickly moved his fingers into Corvo’s hair and gripped the strands.  **_Don’t you fucking dare to apologize._ **

Corvo looked up and opened his mouth with a pained frown. Daud cleared his throat and tried to force the haze of the medicine back enough to articulate. He just wanted to kiss Corvo and beg for a chance to stay in his life.

**_You have nothing to apologize for._ **

Corvo looked unhappy. Then he sighed. His free hand reached for Daud’s face and then stilled, hovering an inch or so away.

_ Do you— Are you still— _

Corvo’s fingers brushed against Daud’s face and he inhaled. The touch felt dizzying even now, like coming up for air. Corvo shuddered as he pressed closer. Daud carefully moved his arm out of the way and wrapped it around Corvo’s waist. He still felt too thin under the expertly tailored clothes, but he was there: entirely real and in Daud’s arms like he should have been years ago.

_ Can I kiss you? _

Daud didn’t understand why Corvo was asking for his permission. His bafflement must have shown, because a sad smile tugged at Corvo’s lips.

_ I still don’t know what you— _

Daud surged up and claimed Corvo’s lips. It was awkward and more than a little desperate, and both of them shivered as the bond started to glow inside them. It drove away most of the lingering fear. Corvo relaxed and then adjusted his position when Daud winced. They ended up a lot closer to each other, with Corvo lightly pressed against Daud’s chest.

_ I didn’t know if you still wanted this. _

Daud huffed, a little exasperated.  **_I do. Of course I do. I just—didn’t want to assume, I guess._ **

Corvo’s smile didn’t disappear as he laid his hand over Daud’s heart.  _ I meant every word I said. I’m too tired to pretend I don’t need you. _

He said it easily, but Daud could feel the tangle of anxiety behind it. He sighed as he brushed a kiss into Corvo’s hair.

**_I want you. If you would still have me, I’m here. For what it’s worth._ **

It felt so good to say it. The relief was a breath of cool air, and Corvo’s acceptance felt like coming home for the first time. It was like seeing the ocean after decades spent in a desert.

Corvo snuggled closer.  _ We have a lot to discuss. I don’t expect this will be easy just because we want to be together. _

Daud shrugged and then cursed under his breath as pain shot through his shoulder. Corvo rolled his eyes.

**_No. But I’m willing to try. I should have done that years ago. I promise I’m done running away._ **

Corvo’s smile turned a little wistful as he shuffled still closer until he was lying down next to Daud.  _ I thought I’d be angry with you. When you we’re still unconscious I thought I’d resent you.  _

**_Do you not?_ **

Daud found it extremely hard to believe. A tired tendril of old anger wafted through his head but it was gone as soon as it registered; Daud knew someday soon he should find the courage to talk about this in depth.

Corvo huffed a tiny laugh and craned his head up. Their lips met slower now, and the kiss was easy.

_ Not really. Life’s not fair, but we made it this far.  _

**_We’re both alive._ **

_ Yeah.  _ Corvo opened his eyes.  _ We’re still alive. _

_ I tried to tell Emily you were helping me just because you regret what you did, but she might know that’s not the whole truth. She knows about soulmates. _

**_Corvo._ ** Daud sighed and wrapped his left arm around Corvo’s shoulders.  **_The reason I was helping you is that I made a mistake. I know I can never truly make amends, but I will try. You being my soulmate doesn’t factor into that._ **

Corvo turned to look at Daud. In the dark his eyes were almost bottomless. 

**_The Whalers are my family. I found most of them, and no matter what kind of shit went down, I could always tell myself that I’d managed to save them, at least. I was so caught up on that, but then I killed Emily’s mother and… I took her family away._ **

Daud cleared his throat even though he wasn’t speaking aloud. His chest was hollow and aching as much as the stump.

**_You were her only family._ ** **Are** **_her only family. I had to make sure you made it through._ **

Daud refused to look away or give in. He’d thought about this while Corvo was still in Coldridge, and he knew he would eventually have arrived to the same conclusion; the bond he shared with Corvo had just made him see the truth faster. 

**_I wanted you to know that._ **

Corvo looked away and swallowed. The bond rippled.  _ Huh. I didn’t think hearing that would help, but…  _

He looked down and smiled. Daud ran his fingers through his hair as they settled more comfortably. Corvo looked like he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon, and something inside Daud uncoiled as he allowed himself to believe it. Having Corvo near him made him breathe easier.

Daud let the silence cocoon them in comfort before speaking again.

**_What was the thing that whispered to us?_ **

Corvo’s hair was falling over his face. Daud only saw the small, sad smile he gave to no one in particular.

_ The Outsider gave it to me. _

**_It was...her, right?_ **

_ Jessamine. Yes. _

Daud hugged Corvo closer. He wanted to apologize again. He wanted to go back in time and find another way to keep his Whalers safe. He wanted so many things that were impossible.

_ She’s gone now.  _ Corvo drew in a breath and let it go, shakily.  _ She disappeared after we came back to the Tower.  _

**_I’m sorry._ **

Corvo shook his head.  _ In a way it’s a relief. Maybe she’s at peace now. _

**_I hope so too._ **

_ She spoke to me one last time. When I thought you would die. _

Daud stiffened. Corvo smoothed a hand over his fingers. 

_ She knew I can’t forgive you. Not all of it, not yet. But— _ Corvo twisted up to look at Daud with glistening eyes. 

_ She asked me to tell you she has. _

Daud choked on his breath. He buried his face into Corvo’s hair as he fought against the dangerous rush of emotions, but the bond was singing to him, and Corvo was holding him tight. The tears, when they came, were bitter and flowing out from a very dark place. Daud gasped through them, struggling for control. He tucked the words away for a moment when he wouldn’t fall to pieces at thinking about them.

*

The following week Sokolov banged into Daud’s room just as he was penning a report, and informed him that his new leg was ready, and that Daud ought to move his behind to the therapy room unless he wanted to hobble around on crutches for the rest of his life. Daud gave Sokolov an ugly glare, which the physician ignored.

An hour later Daud was ready to murder someone, possibly himself. The prosthetic itself was ready, but the cup and the cushion were not; they had to be fitted to his stump, and taking the measurements meant putting the damn thing on and taking it off, standing up and gritting his teeth against the pain, and then repeating this until he was drenched in sweat and exhausted. 

The stump was healing fast. Mafalda forced elixirs down Daud’s throat three times a day, and his Mark was tingling whenever he woke up; it had helped him heal in the past, too. Most mornings Daud felt a phantom pain in his missing toes, and he knew it would most likely remain. He’d been slowly working on his balance, but the fitting process was different. 

When Sokolov was finally satisfied, he snatched the prosthetic from Daud’s hands and whirled out of the room. The young nurse who had been helping him escaped right at Sokolov’s heels, apparently terrified of being left alone with the Knife of Dunwall. The door banged closed after them.

Daud leaned back in his chair and stifled a sigh. He definitely didn’t feel dangerous at the moment, just old and weary. He didn’t bother to shrug his jacket back on as he breathed in and out, enjoying the silence.

“Giving up already?” A soft, amused voice made Daud look up. Corvo was leaning against the doorframe, smiling at him and holding a bottle of whiskey.

“Dream on, Attano. I’ll be back on my feet in no time,” Daud groaned. He made a vague gesture towards his feet. “The regular one and whatever the hell Sokolov made the new one out of.”

Corvo sniggered as he stalked closer. Daud didn’t bother getting up.

“What’s that?” he asked. Corvo glanced at the bottle he was holding.

“I heard a rumor you were weaned off the good stuff today,” he explained. “I thought you’d appreciate this.”

Daud chuckled. He was in more pain, and it was clear that Corvo could see it. Most likely feel it too, through the bond. The kindness of Corvo’s gesture made Daud’s chest feel warmer.

**_Get me a decent cigar to go with that, and I’ll do just about anything._ **

_ Anything?  _ Corvo’s voice lilted up with amusement, and Daud swallowed as the man dug out a silver case.  _ Join me? _

Daud didn’t want to risk transversing with the crutches, so the treck to the balcony was a slow one. He’d expected to start feeling shame over his injury and how helpless he was, but it hadn’t come yet. He knew he would have gladly given up much more than a limb to save Corvo and Emily.

The sun had just set, and the air was uncharacteristically warm. Daud propped himself against the railing, happy to stand up for a short while. He was wearing his own clothes again, and the empty right trouser leg was held off the ground by a safety pin. He would need to do something about that once the prosthetic leg was ready.

Corvo stepped closer, presented the case to him, and Daud picked up a cigar. He expected Corvo to hand him the matches, but the man leaned into his space and struck one for him. Daud almost forgot what he was doing, because Corvo smelled good and his eyes were playful. Daud regretted when he stood back to light his own, but Corvo didn’t move away. He leaned onto the banister, so close their shoulders brushed.

_ Sokolov told me the prosthetic leg should be ready within a few weeks. You’ll be able to move around again. _

Daud nodded. He wasn’t looking forward to learning to walk again.

_ You can move into your own quarters then. _

Daud turned to stare, but Corvo didn’t look at him. His expression was carefully neutral.

**_I have quarters?_ **

Corvo’s lips crept into a smile.  _ You’re not a prisoner.  _

Daud opened his mouth and then closed it again. He had been expecting— He didn’t even know what he’d expected to happen once he was no longer confined to the hospital bed. His full recovery would take months, and thus far everything not work-related had been dealt with a certain one day at a time -attitude.

_ We cleaned up Burrows’ old rooms for you,  _ Corvo went on as he took a long drag of his own cigar.  _ Rulfio and Galia have already been roomed, and they seem happy. Less so with the need to ditch the Whaler gear, but…  _ He shrugged.

Daud barked a laugh. He didn’t know what to say, so he settled on looking at Corvo. The light was fading, and in the final red hues Corvo’s hair looked almost black. He turned to face Daud and the smile got wider.

_ I’m happy you’re alive. _

Daud just nodded. His hand twitched and then moved to cover Corvo’s. He was starting to burn up again, because Corvo was so close, and Daud had expected to lose everything after the Kingsparrow Island. Instead his life was changing for the better, and Corvo wasn’t pushing him away. He was doing the exact opposite, what with the private smile he was giving Daud, and the golden, bright light rippling across the bond.

Corvo’s eyes flashed. He very deliberately put out his cigar and then pushed away from the railing.

“Come. I need to go over a few reports with you.”

Daud followed him, feeling almost nervous, and when his private room’s door clicked shut Corvo immediately pressed him into it. His mouth was hot and insistent, and Daud pulled him closer the second he let the crutches clatter to the floor.

Corvo kissed him slowly, but there was nothing hesitant about it. He sucked on Daud’s bottom lip before nipping at it, and Daud shivered. He snuck his hands under Corvo’s coat, and in one smooth motion the man shrugged the garment off. Daud wrapped an arm around his waist, his free hand tangling into Corvo’s hair.

Suddenly Corvo pulled back. His eyes cleared a bit and he blushed.

_ Am I being pushy? _

Daud laughed out loud. He let the sound come, bubbling up from his chest. Corvo’s alarm softened.

**_You’ve always been pushy, Attano. It’s one of your better qualities._ **

Corvo snorted and nodded. Whenever Daud had let small affectionate things slip in the past week his soulmate’s eyes had grown needy, and the bond had thrummed with longing. Private time had been in short supply, but Daud had pushed himself; whenever it was just the two of them, he made himself loosen his grip on the bond. 

**_I want you._ ** Daud nudged Corvo away and made it to the bed with an artless hobble. Corvo joined him before he managed to congratulate himself on not falling down. Thomas would never let him live down the occasion when Daud had assured him he didn’t need the crutches to get a few papers and ended up on his ass.

Daud pinned Corvo down, and as his bulk settled over him the rest of the agitation melted away. They fit together so well, and Daud’s chest was warm as he let himself feel his hips settling snugly against Corvo’s thighs. It was so new to allow someone this close.

**_I used to wonder whether I’d have a taste for sex with you,_ ** Daud murmured as he kissed Corvo again. He was picking up on all the little ways Corvo’s body received pleasure, and the bond soothed over his nerves. Corvo made a soft hum at the back of his throat. His hands finally stopped hovering and landed on Daud’s thighs, stroking up and down.

_ We can just...do whatever you’re comfortable with.  _

Daud trailed his mouth lower, biting and kissing Corvo’s throat as the man bared it without a second thought.  _ I, ah. I might get excited, but— _

Daud could feel Corvo growing hard under him, and he grinned against the hot skin. Without a warning, Daud sucked skin into his mouth. Corvo moaned as his hands gripped Daud’s thighs harder. The touch was possessive and surprised, and it felt indecently good. Without giving Corvo time to voice more protests, Daud shifted enough to show his soulmate wasn’t the only one getting aroused.

**_I can still like sex even when I have no particular attraction in that sense._ **

It was difficult to articulate something that was such a personal and private thing. Corvo had picked up on Daud’s dislike of being touched when they had been young, and the bond had eased them into being intimate. Daud thought about touching Corvo now, and it sent a frisson of pleasure down his spine. Corvo’s eyes grew wide and pleased as he felt it.

**_I trust you._ ** That was at the core of it. Daud had trusted Corvo ever since he’d allowed the man back inside his head. What’s more, he’d learned to trust that instinct.

Corvo’s face broke into a smile.  _ I trust you too. I’m learning to.  _ He slid his hands higher, and Daud sucked in a breath as thumbs teased over the waistband of his trousers. 

Daud knew Corvo’s body was at least as battered and abused as his own. Stripping each other still felt like finally taking down some kind of a wall between them, because when they pressed against each other skin on skin, Daud felt something give. He was bare in front of his soulmate in all senses of the word, and Corvo watched him with a reverent sort of want written all across him.

_ Void.  _

Daud traced his fingers along a jagged, badly healed scar on Corvo’s shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything as he pressed his lips to it. Corvo’s breath came out half a sob, half a moan. As Daud went on to catalogue everything there was to see and feel about his body, Corvo’s fingers gripped Daud’s hair. Daud could feel he wanted to reciprocate.

**_Shh. Let me._ **

Daud had imagined he was too broken to touch anyone without hurting them, but making Corvo shiver with pleasure was the easiest thing in the world. He tracked all the scars he could find, and when he ran out of those he continued with smooth skin, until Corvo was trembling with need and there were half-formed words spilling into the bond and from his lips alike.

Daud lifted his head to watch him. His heart was so full. He knew it would only take the tiniest nudge to make Corvo topple over.

**_I love you._ **

Corvo’s breath caught. His body released all tension like a dam breaking, and Daud was happy to hold him through it, gather him close and repeat the words over and over. He lost track of time, the only thing that mattered was the cocoon of pleasure and warmth they had built. He was in love, and he was finally happy to admit it.

They let the light turn the room blue and black as they drifted together.

_ I’ve loved you for such a long time.  _ Corvo’s thoughts finally came, sluggish and wondering. His face was mashed into Daud’s neck. At some point he had twisted himself on top, and was now laying half on top of Daud. Their skin was cooling.

_ Please don’t leave me. _

Daud kissed Corvo’s hair and then made a grumble when his soulmate pressed his ice-cold toes against his calf. The stump was throbbing, but the healing had progressed far enough for it to be bearable.

**_As I said. If you’ll still have me, I’m here for good._ **

Corvo just nodded. There was a thoughtful silence. Daud knew what he had told the Outsider still held true; things wouldn’t be easy just because they wanted something. They had talked about the need to remain secretive, yes, but some time in the future they’d have to address the deeper issues.

_ I always meant to ask, where are you from?  _ Corvo’s voice shook Daud out of his thoughts.  _ You don’t really have an accent. Your skin’s a bit darker than what’s normal for Gristol-born folks. _

Daud sighed. He thought back and when no anxiety cropped up, he reached for things he had buried decades ago. It wasn’t a pleasant thing, but this was Corvo; all of Daud’s secrets were his to uncover by now.

**_I grew up in Serkonos._ **

Corvo’s head jerked up. His eyes were wide.

_ What? _

Daud nodded. He gave Corvo a dry smile.  **_I was kidnapped when I was just a kid. I came to Dunwall when I was sixteen._ **

Corvo’s mouth was cracked open.  _ And your parents?  _ The question was so careful it made Daud ache. 

**_My mother was from Pandyssia. My father was a pirate. I never met him._ **

_ Oh. _

Daud managed a proper smile as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Corvo’s open mouth.  **_They said my mother was a witch. They called me one, too, and it was the reason I was taken away._ **

Daud closed his eyes and let the feelings wash through him. He wanted to explain himself to Corvo, tell about the hurts that had never healed and which had driven him away from his soulmate.

**_They took away all of my choices when they stole me. My life wasn’t my own._ **

Corvo drew in a shuddering breath. Daud screwed his eyes shut tighter as his throat grew hot and tight.

Daud remembered himself as a teenager. Angry and scared, always bigger and stronger than other kids of his age, always taking them by surprise by his speed. How quickly he’d grown to rely on violence when life threw yet another obstacle at him. How much he’d hated his  _ name,  _ because of what it meant, how it felt like yet another insult, how no one pronounced it like his mother had done.

**_I was almost disappointed when the Outsider marked me. He didn’t ask, just branded me a freak in yet another way and called it a gift._ **

_ You hated the Mark.  _ It wasn’t a question. Corvo’s fingers played on Daud’s chest.  _ You hated it for a long time, until you figured out how to share it. You hated the bond, too, because you didn’t get to choose. _

**_Yeah._ **

Corvo kissed his temple and wiped away the stray tears. When Daud dared to open his eyes, his soulmate’s expression was sad.

_ I’m sorry I didn’t see it.  _

He was silent for a while.  _ Do you still feel like it? _

Daud snorted.  **_I did just tell you I’ve gone soft for you, didn’t I?_ **

Corvo smacked his chest weakly, and Daud laughed.

_ You know what I mean. Asshole. _

Daud shifted so he could bury his face into Corvo’s hair.

**_I don’t like the fact that we never got to choose. But I got fucking lucky. And even when I tried my hardest to screw this up, you’re still here, so…_ **

Corvo kissed his neck and took his hand. He was growing heavy with sleep.

_ I’ve always been here. _

*

_ Six months later: _

Corvo slipped into Daud’s office. It was getting late, close to midnight, and he expected to find the Spymaster at his desk. Instead, he was greeted by an empty room he knew as well as his own by now. The fire had been banked, and its light was the only one illuminating the neat bookshelves and the precise stacks of papers on the desk.

Corvo looked around, but nothing looked out of place. He’d seen Daud earlier today at the court, the Spymaster standing behind Emily as they went over the latest news of insurgent cells and the proposed methods to deal with them. Daud had looked almost bored, but Corvo was never fooled by his stoic face; the Knife had been taking mental notes on whoever was speaking. 

Daud had griped about the prosthetic leg, claiming it made him look old and decrepit. Corvo had rolled his eyes at him, because the effect was the exact opposite. Daud had thrown himself into rehabilitation with the same ferocity he showed his work, and it wasn’t uncommon to see him sparring with the Tower Guard nowadays. By now most of the officers were able to talk to him without stuttering.

The prosthetic leg Sokolov had designed didn’t look even remotely like a human limb. It was a deceptively simple thing; a cup holding the stump of Daud’s right leg, with a curved, stiff ribbon of metal attached to the back of it. Daud had even requested his trousers to be hemmed so that they revealed the gleaming arch in its entirety. He looked, if possible, even more lethal than before.

Corvo was helplessly drawn to that.

Corvo looked around the room once more, but it was clear Daud was somewhere else. He considered using the bond, but then his curiosity overcame him; Daud sometimes sneaked off like this when it was late and no one was likely to bother him. Corvo had not asked, but now he wanted to know what his soulmate was doing.

He was fairly certain they had managed to keep their relationship a secret. When neither of them had to rely on the Tower corridors to sneak into the other’s room, it had been much easier than back when Corvo had been doing this same dance with Jessamine. The bond had grown as they had gotten used to each other, and by now Corvo could get a feeling of where Daud was if he focused on him.

The feeling pulled him out of the room and towards the less-used western wing. It was mostly reserved for grand ceremonies and official balls, and those had been in short supply as Emily found her footing as empress and worked with Sokolov and Piero to distribute the plague cure to everyone in Dunwall. Corvo snuck past a few guards, following the nudge of the bond, using his skeleton key to slip into a corridor which looked like no one had been there for months.

Well, apart from someone with only one human leg. Daud’s tracks were easy to spot, even in the almost complete darkness. Corvo crept along what he judged to be a servant corridor, much more narrow than the one he’d just left behind. 

There was a door cracked open near the end of it. Corvo tried to recall the Tower floor plan, but the building was old and huge. He stopped before reaching the door, and then he heard it; measured breaths, an occasional sound of a foot scuffing against the floor, the faint click of the metal foot Corvo knew so well.

Corvo held his breath and finally peeked through the doorway. And then he stared, distantly aware that his mouth fell open.

Daud was—he wasn’t dancing, but as close as. He was facing away from the door, one hand on a beam rigged to the wall, and going through extremely precise-looking motions. There was no music, but his movements were so smooth and flowing that Corvo imagined he could hear it nonetheless.

He didn’t know how long he stood there. He was completely mesmerized. Daud went through the same motions, his breathing deep and steady, muscles flowing in the light of the single whale oil lantern on the floor. The shadows danced on the walls around him.

When Daud finished the sequence, he didn’t launch into it again. Instead he wiped his face and turned his head towards the door.

“I can hear you gaping.”

Corvo took a step back and his boots made a squeak against the dusty floor. When he turned back towards the room, Daud was watching him with narrowed eyes. He leaned against the beam and folded his arms, but Corvo could feel he wasn’t angry; just surprised and a little embarrassed. Corvo slipped into the room, and saw it was most likely a large office. It was completely bare, the window overlooking the Wrenhaven.

“I didn’t know you dance.” Corvo carefully stepped closer, until he could touch Daud’s forearm. This close it was visible that he was sweaty; the deceptively easy movements had fooled even Corvo.

“I don’t. Not anymore, anyway.” Daud finally unthawed and smiled. “I just returned to some old exercises to get used to the leg.”

Corvo stayed quiet. He knew that if he wanted Daud to open up, he had to give him space. The Knife didn’t mind telling Corvo about his past, but he was unused to it; unused to being able to trust in anyone, Corvo reminded himself.

Daud sighed. He picked up a small towel and wiped his face. He looked at Corvo.

“Remember I spent one year at the Academy?”

Corvo nodded. Daud had told him of his time there vaguely.

“The way things work there, you pick two majors. One science, one art.” Daud stretched his arms above his head and his mouth twisted into a dry grin. “They were all about painting thanks to that asshole Sokolov when I was there, but I decided that if I was going to sit on my ass during anatomy lectures, I had to do something different with my other major. So I tracked down the dance professor and she took me on. It was unusual, because I had no dancing background.”

“Oh.” Corvo tired to imagine Daud as a young man. Something about the picture sent a wave of gentleness through him.

“Yeah. Her name was Agrippina Vaganova. She was originally from Tyvia, migrated here when she was a teenager, tore through the dancing world, and then landed at the Academy and became a teacher. She developed a whole new style of ballet.” 

Daud noticed how Corvo was staring at him as he stretched and grinned knowingly. “I was never anything extraordinary, but dancing did teach me a thing or two. Like how to jump without alerting a whole gang of Hatters because I happen to trip over my own feet, for instance.”

Corvo rolled his eyes. “That was one time.”

Daud shook his head. He bent down to adjust the cup and when he looked back at Corvo his gaze was warmer.

**_Miss me?_ **

Corvo just nodded. He stepped closer and pressed Daud against the barre. He tucked his nose under Daud’s jaw.

_ I was just wondering where you had disappeared to.  _

Daud’s bare arms pulled him closer. He radiated heat, and Corvo relaxed. His body had long ago come to associate Daud with safety.

**_I’m finished here. Want to go look at the stars?_ **

It was a silly, soft thing they did. When the skies were clear and they had time, they climbed to some high vantage and just sat there. They didn’t have to talk.

_ Someday I’ll take you to Karnaca,  _ Corvo said.  _ And we can sail out to sea and float there. Together. _

Daud smiled. He brushed a kiss against Corvo’s temple.

**_I’d like that._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Naming the Stars_ by Joyce Sutphen**
> 
> This present tragedy will eventually  
> turn into myth, and in the mist  
> of that later telling the bell tolling  
> now will be a symbol, or, at least,  
> a sign of something long since lost.
> 
> This will be another one of those  
> loose changes, the rearrangement of  
> hearts, just parts of old lives,  
> patched together, gathered into  
> a dim constellation, a small consolation.
> 
> Look, we will say, you can almost see  
> the outline there: her fingertips  
> touching his, the faint fusion  
> of two bodies breaking into light.
> 
> ***
> 
> Daud ([daː.wuːd], Arabic: داوود) is a male Arabic given name corresponding to David. In Hebrew, David means "beloved." (Wikipedia)
> 
> ***
> 
> Agrippina Yakovlevna Vaganova (Russian: Агриппина Яковлевна Ваганова; 26 June 1879 – 5 November 1951) was a real person. She did develop a new style of ballet, called the Vaganova method. The idea that Daud's transversals are smooth af (compared to one Corvo Attano) is because he used to dance came to me while writing this, and the idea was hilarious enough to make it into the fic proper. :D
> 
> ***
> 
> Last but not least: thank you for reading! <3 I'm on [tumblr](https://merulanoir.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/merulanoir) too! Come say hi!


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